#I'll probably use them again next Halloween

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #16: Tape IX (Senseless)

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, eye injury, brief dismemberment

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Heather was a mere mortal. Heather was nothing, compared to him. Jackie tried to keep this in mind the next day, when she returned with the scalpel. The threat of improvised surgery often dulled his sense of scorn.

“Stop that,” she snapped, the scalpel like a tiny spear in her gloved hand. “The table’s going to break.”

The table did shudder beneath him, but Jackie refused to move. On the contrary—he stepped farther along its length, farther away from the wicked glint of the blade. The scar on his chest had faded to a silvery line, but the memory of being torn apart was still alive and kicking. 

Heather now spoke in a tone that was marginally softer than before. Which wasn’t very soft at all, but it was something. “I have the drug, remember? You won’t feel anything.”

“Oh. Right.”

“So? Get down. Or would you rather do it without the painkillers?”

He clambered off the table with as much dignity as he could muster. He hoped to hell that the drug wouldn’t wear off early, or worse—not work at all. If it came to blows, he could start sobbing again, but somehow he knew that wouldn’t work a second time. 

There was that tiny red pill again. Two of them this time. And a glass of water, and that dreaded table with all the empty glass jars. All manner of steel implements were arranged before him, a bona fide orchestra of surgical instruments. Most of them he had seen before, which did not ease his apprehension at all.

“I’ll give you five minutes, then we’ll begin.” As she spoke, the recorder listened on from a safe corner of the table, away from all the jars. “Today's dosage is fourteen hundred milligrams. Administered twelve hours after previous dosage.”

“What’s the needle for?” The needle in question was at least six inches long, but otherwise indistinguishable from a normal sewing needle. Down went the water and the pills. Jackie now noticed a mild bitter taste, which lingered even after he swallowed. 

“Gee, I don’t know. It’s a surprise tool that will help us later.” She ripped the glass from his hands and placed it on the nightstand. “Stop asking questions, for God’s sake.”

Well, he wasn’t about to argue. When she was sure he would not speak, Heather turned her back to him. She began cleaning some kind of saw or blade with an abrasive-smelling, clear liquid and a soft white cloth. The room was filled with a chemical smell.

While he waited, the opioid took effect. The numbness spread through his body, at first through the tips of his fingers, then through his hands and arms, cutting off the feeling in his legs and chest, then finally his face. Even the bitter aftertaste faded on his tongue. The textures and touch of the outside world ceased to exist in any meaningful way. This time, even the dread in the back of his mind and the tension in his heart began to slow—not by much, but it was a noticeable difference. 

The cleaning of tools had concluded. She turned back to him. “Is the anesthetic working?”

He nodded.

Before he could react, she stabbed a scalpel into the side of his arm. Jackie opened his mouth to protest, but he hadn’t felt a thing. Not even the warmth of blood, dripping against his skin as she pulled the blade out. Those electric impulses had all but died. 

“The drug has blocked all pain receptors.” She put the scalpel down. “There aren’t many side effects, although Jackie’s immortality makes it unclear whether or not the opioid is toxic.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” A spoon. Why was she holding a spoon? He couldn’t see any food. “It’s time for the experiment. Keep your eyes open. Try not to blink.”

Eyes? 

Oh. Oh no. 

Despite all the impossible things his body had healed, Jackie was not thrilled at this prospect. But it wouldn’t hurt, at least. And he couldn’t say no. He’d have to suck it up and let her finish the test. How bad could it be? What was a little bit of blindness to the undying, eternal Jackie? What harm could a utensil do to someone like him?

“I don’t see how this benefits science,” he did say, however. “Pun not intended.”

She gestured with the spoon, shrugging. “Oh, you know. Something interesting might happen.”

Something interesting. Right. To each their own, he supposed. 

“Sit down on the chair. Don’t move,” she added sharply. “Don’t start crying again, either. It won’t help you.”

He wasn’t planning to, anyway. He sat on the chair, next to his desk, as still as possible. Heather approached him, spoon in hand. It was funny to see such an ordinary thing held with such weight and importance. He could see his reflection on the surface, like a funhouse mirror image. The concave curve lit up as she moved closer. A stripe of shiny metal, one that would soon be embedded in his sockets, digging out the delicate jelly-like flesh. Ew. Why did Jackie have such a morbid imagination? It would be painless, but he still couldn’t help but flinch.

Her hand grasped his shoulder. “It will be okay.” Such a cold tone for such a comforting line. “Look at the stairs.”

Behind her was the flight of stairs. A straight line of steps. Underneath, there was a triangular section of wall. He noticed a sort of seam there, a ridge bumping out. There must have been a closet dug into that space, or another kind of storage area. Now, it was covered up, with nothing but a ridge to remember it by. He wondered why. Seemed pointless to Jackie. Waste of a good closet. Maybe there had been an infestation, or a—

Jackie didn’t feel the spoon touch his eye, but he saw it. On instinct, he screwed both his eyes shut. He tried to open them, but it was a struggle to stop blinking.

He heard her growl, even when he couldn’t see her. “I don’t need to cut your eyelids out, do I?”

That was decidedly not a nice mental image. “I can’t help it.”

“Fine.” Her hand lifted from his shoulder. Instead, he saw it grasp his face, from the corner of his eye. “I’ll hold them open. Don’t look away from the stairs, or so God help you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” What would normally be an uncomfortable position without the drug was now only a strange one, as she pried his right eye open. 

The stairs. Right. The stairs. What about the stairs? They weren’t carpeted, as they were in his childhood home. That was probably for the better, considering all the blood he shed. What else was there to say about them? It didn’t matter, anyway—his vision went blurred, unfocused. Dots of red filled his sight. He could hear the squishing sound as his eyeball was gouged out. Wet, loud, as if someone was crushing up gelatin. A wave of nausea plugged up his chest. He fought the urge to push her away. He fought the urge to pull back. His hands staggered to the arms of the chair. He grasped them hard, as someone in a car crash grasps the wheel. There was no pain, not even a slight pressure, but it was nevertheless unpleasant. 

Then, his vision disappeared completely. At least, in that one eye. Heather pulled away. There was a final squelching sound. Then, the sawing of a scalpel across nerves. A final snap… and then it was over. The spoon lowered to her side. 

With what remained of his sight, he glanced at the bloody eye in her hand—he then quickly looked back at the stairs. Her instructions aside, it wasn’t a pretty view. 

“You can’t see through this, can you?” The awe in Heather’s voice was evident. A stilted sense of pride flickered in him, even though immortality was less of a talent and more of an unconscious spasm.

“No.” He let himself blink—Jackie realized that he hadn’t felt the urge to blink for a while now. 

“Fascinating.” Her head tilted backwards, towards the recorder. “The eyes heal slower than the heart, which I hadn’t expected. That’s all semantics, in any case. On to the next eye.”

The removal of his left eye went a little more smoothly. He knew what to expect, so it wasn’t as big of a shock when his vision went completely dark. He hadn’t grown accustomed to those noises at all, however. It was a relief when the spoon left his sockets and all went silent.

Jackie closed his eyelids. He opened them. Still nothing. The basement had been plunged into a flat shadow, devoid of depth or direction. Touch and sight—he was two senses down.

The sudden loss was dizzying. Even the comfort of touch, the pressure of plastic against his palm and the solidity of the ground, even that was forfeit. There was nothing to steady him. Nothing to lean against. Nothing familiar, nothing loyal or true. That safety had been cut from his hand, leaving only the maps of memory to guide his movements. 

He could not halt the steady stream of panic passing through him, now that he only had his hearing and smell to rely on. And those senses were barren at best. The silence offered nothing, and all he could smell was blood and cleaning chemicals. 

“They’ll grow back, I’m sure.” Heather’s voice cut through his thoughts. Following that was the unscrewing of a jar and the squish of eyes pressed against glass. “Can you see anything? Anything at all?”

“No. It’s lights out for me, doc.” He rubbed his face—a pointless gesture, since he, you know, couldn’t feel anything. “You’re sure they’ll grow back?”

“Probably.” An uneasy silence broke her sentence. “I mean, all your internal organs grew back. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I hope so. I’ll be bored as hell without them.”

“Well.” Another pause. “I could get you a radio. If you want one. Maybe a record player. You like music, don’t you?”

“I guess.” 

She did not reply. In that awful intermission, he had nothing to occupy himself with but the sound of his breathing. The sound of her breathing, too, and the occasional rustling of fabric. His unease did not lighten or leave. How was he supposed to escape if he couldn’t see anything? The thought of being blind wasn’t nearly as upsetting as the thought of being dependent on Heather. The nausea rose in tempo, a steady roiling wave against his chest. 

He was ready to start dry-heaving, but just that moment his vision returned. Blooming, bursting into view, the bright light, the almost painful intensity of it. At first, there were only a few spots, which quickly bled into great patches, until it all returned. Never was there a more beautiful sight. He blinked until the white light eased into familiar shapes. Heather’s basement. He could see it all. The bed, the lightbulb, the uncarpeted stairs. And there was Heather herself! Jackie had to admit he was glad to see her, if only because it meant he hadn’t lost his ability to see.

The relief etched on her face mirrored his own. “See? I told you it would be fine.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a second.” He managed a weak grin. “Is the experiment over now?”

“No, actually.” She raised the spoon with a matching smile. “A few more rounds couldn’t hurt.” 

A… few more rounds. Once was enough, Jackie thought. But he couldn’t refuse, could he?

Her smile widened to Chesire proportions. “Oh, come on. Do you really not find any of this interesting?“

“If I’m being honest? No.” His disappointment was apparently not as subtle as he imagined. “Whatever. You’re right, it couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I love to see.” She paused. “Pun not—you know—“

“I get it. Hurry up and gouge me, will you?”

She frowned a bit at his wording, but continued. Three more times. By the third time around, he had acclimatized to this strange ritual. His vision would blank out, he’d wait a few minutes, and it would return good as new. The only real problem was his increasing boredom. He wondered how it looked from Heather’s perspective. Probably didn’t look very pretty, considering his entire eyeball was reshaping itself. Although, maybe there was a strange beauty in that. An uncanny sort of vividness. An evocative thrill in all that gore. 

At last, she put the spoon away, which was now covered in a mess of reds. In a jar resided a pile of his eyes. All exactly the same, dark irises and bloodshot whites, accompanied by splashes of crimson here and there. A revolting sight, dulled a little by how casually Heather was treating it.

Jackie leaned forward in his chair for a closer view. “You��re keeping those?”

She gave him a curt, chiding look, as she picked up the large saw. “That’s none of your concern. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the importance of this.”

Heather was correct in that regard. He didn’t have the faintest idea. “I don’t know. Seems like a waste of a good jar to me.”

The glint of silver entered his view before he had a chance to move away. The blade of the saw rested against the edge of his mouth. The motion was patient, almost tender. 

Heather leaned forward. “Are you sure you want to talk like that before I remove your tongue?"

“Please don’t.” He tilted his head as far back as it would go. “I’ll shut up now.” 

“Good.” Her reply came with an amused tilt. The saw lifted from his skin. She then examined Jackie, as a butcher examines a sow. Her stare gleamed with an excitement that made him profoundly uncomfortable. “Now, I think it’s safe to say we can try something bigger. How about... an arm?”

He sighed and held out his left arm. 

The saw she had chosen for the dismemberment was even longer than the bone saw, with a great rectangular section of steel atop a curved handle. She practiced her swing a few times, just below the elbow, grazing the skin like a batter preparing to strike out.

This was something he didn’t need to witness. Something he would definitely prefer not to witness. His dreams already had enough gore for one lifetime. Jackie turned his head away and screwed his eyes shut. He held his breath. If nothing else, he hoped it would be a clean cut. Nice and quick. 

“You can relax now. It’s done.”

“Oh.” That was faster than he expected.

“Hold on, I need to write this down.” Jackie did not open his eyes, but he could hear the shuffle of papers and the clicking of a pen. “Subject’s limbs grow back remarkably quickly, considering how much organic matter is removed. I would give it another ten minutes. That means the estimated total time is…” The pen scratched something down. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”

“What’s it look like? My arm?”

She clicked her tongue. “Bad. Keep those eyes closed, I’d say.”

“Good idea.” What Heather was planning to do with his dismembered arm, Jackie could not imagine. Then again, Jackie wasn’t a cold-blooded killer who collected organs for fun. His imagination was somewhat limited. 

“Alright, that looks good as new.” Jackie opened his eyes to find her examining his arm, devoid of any injury aside from a raw scar that circled his elbow. “Try moving that for me.”

He lifted his arm, flexed his fingers, rolled his wrist. The injury hadn’t stiffened his movements in the slightest. 

“I expect you’ll feel sore later, but it’s nothing an Aspirin can’t fix.” And now, the needle. “One last test, okay? The opioid should wear off soon, so I’ll get this over with quickly.”

“And what is this, exactly?” He shifted further back into the chair. Now that she mentioned it, he was starting to feel the slightest hint of heat, pricking the edge of his skin. Along with that came the shudder of something colder along his spine, tensing his heart. What would he do if the drug cut out early? Whatever she was planning, it couldn’t be pleasant. 

“I’ve tested your sense of sight.” She leaned over him, placed her hand securely around his jaw. “Now, I want to see how your hearing is affected.”

The needle entered his ear. It wasn’t painful yet, but he could feel the cold steel, along with a slight pressure. Then, his other ear. 

The loss of his hearing wasn’t nearly as distressing as the loss of his sight, knowing that it would come back. In fact, he hadn’t even noticed it missing at first. All at once, every noise ceased to exist. The steady buzz of the light and the rhythm of his breathing, even the faint click-click-click of the recorder, all faded into a calming quiet.

Heather waved her hand in front of his face. He tilted his head. Oh, she was speaking. Saying something. He could not understand a lick of it, of course. 

“I can’t hear you, idiot.” He flinched as she tightened her grip on his jaw—he could actually feel it now, feel the pressure of her nails. “Sorry. But I can’t.”

She let go and gestured to her lips.

“I’m not good at reading lips,” he protested. “Write it down. You have a journal, right?”

She shook her head, now gesturing to the instruments, saying something with increasing passion. He caught the words expensive and waste of paper—a simple yes or no would work, but it got the point across. Then, she pointed to the journal, then at him.

“Are you asking about my notebook?”

She nodded.

“Do you… want it?”

She nodded slower, pointedly.

“Right.” He made a show of searching the room. “I must have… lost it. Sorry.”

That triggered another rant. The tone of it was evident on her face, even if it didn’t reach his ears. She gestured to the room as she spoke, then to him, then to the scalpel, then back to him—he hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it meant—then at his nightstand. 

And then, her lips stopped moving, with the tempo of an engine running itself down, as she seemed to realize how confused he was. Her expression softened, but not in a comforting way—in the way a cat goes still before its pounce. 

She tapped her watch, then held up five fingers. Five minutes. Then, she crossed her legs and waited. For his hearing to return, most likely. Jackie was dreading that moment.

A shrill pop, above the side of his jaw, interrupted his dread. It didn’t hurt too much, but it did hurt. The ache dragged along his face. He pressed a hand to his ear. The hum of white noise filled in that ringing silence, then the steady whirring of the recorder, then the sound of his sharp inhale, and finally the twisting of fabric as Heather moved to him. 

“Can you hear me?”

He nodded, before putting a hand to his other ear as it healed. 

“Good. Now explain.”

“I lost it! What do you want me to explain?” He straightened his shoulders from their unconscious hunch.

“You lost it.” She held up two fingers. “Jackie, you’re locked in a single room. There are two possible explanations. Either you’re lying—“ she put down a finger—“or you’re sneaking out of the basement.” The remaining finger tapped against his chest. “Do either of those options sound good?”

”No.”

“Then explain to me what really happened.”

“Well…” He’d gotten out of one bad situation with his words. He could get out of another. “I was using the notebook. Then I fell asleep. I must have dropped it under the bed or something. It’s fine, I’ll get it later.”

“What were you using it for?”

Should he be honest? No, that was more than he wanted her to know. “Writing.”

“Writing what?”

What did people write? Could he convince her that he was drafting a novel? It would be a hard sell. What else? “Nothing. Never mind.”

“You fucking liar.” 

“What? No, I—“ All the muscles and veins in Jackie’s body screamed at him to run, to get away, to hide, to fight, to do something and not just sit there like a terrified punching bag. Then again, where would he hide? In the bathroom sink? Fight with what, his stunning good looks? Running would make things worse. Better to wait it out.

After all, what good would this tiny rebellion do? The Americans had armies chock-full of weapons. Even the peasants of France had their guillotines and gun bayonets. Jackie had nothing. Appeasement was his only option. There was no point in shooting a rifle without any bullets. 

She stood up and stepped over to the recorder. The spools ceased to spin. Now he was alone with Heather. When had he started thinking of the recorder as a separate entity? It was a comforting thought, that someone else was watching, someone other than his captor. It meant that she couldn’t hurt him, not while a witness was listening in. He knew that was just pretend, but it was all he had. Grasping for straws like he was drowning, holding on to the riptides around him. 

And once that recorder cut off, the only barrier in his mind, his terror came flooding in. God’s holy cleansing in a world gone senseless, a wrathful sea to erase what remained. He was left to drown with the heathens and pigs. Left alone, all alone. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghost light prompt!

Meeting the family

Gone wrong? Gone right? You decide!!!

"Do you like meatloaf?" Maddie asks as she hoists up a modified rocket launcher. Duke tries not to look too wigged out, but it's hard to keep a straight face while his boyfriend's parents deal with the hostage situation in a very strange, mad scientist/engineer way that he's never seen before.

He's starting to get why Danny didn't want his parents coming to Gotham.

"Probably?" Duke answers, hoping he can land in the general area of a good answer. "I haven't really had a lot of meatloaf before but I'm always willing to try new foods."

"That's a great attitude to have!" Jack exclaims, patting Duke on the back. His absurd strength makes Duke stumble forward a few steps. Jack quickly steadies him with a hand on his shoulder and a muttered, "Whoops!"

"I am so sorry," Danny says again, hiding his face in his hands. "I should have insisted on having them meet you some other time."

The wall before them explodes and Maddie cheers. "Alright boys, you go ahead and get to the restaurant to hold our reservation. We'll be there as soon as we clean this up! And next time, we'll skip all this mess by having you eat at home with us. Be good, boys!" She's gone before either of them can respond, Jack happily following his wife to rain holy hell down on Two Face's henchmen. Duke is left behind with Danny and the handful of other hostages gathered up to draw out Batman. If what he heard is correct, then Two Face was planning on using the hostages as a distraction to take in a large shipment of weapons from the Odessa Mob, which is a plan that has been thoroughly derailed by the Fentons.

"I knew this would be a disaster," Danny despairs, and Duke softens, lets go of his worries about the situation, and places an arm around his boyfriend's waist to draw him into a hug.

Danny leans into him, the tips of his ears red with embarrassment. "It's alright," Duke reassures, "They're making a great first impression, saving me from Two Face and all. Why don't we get the others evacuated and then head out to the restaurant?"

He nods and pulls away from Duke after a few deep breaths to settle himself. They help the other hostages get outside, following the Fenton's trail of destruction through the warehouse, and reassure them that there aren't new rogues in Gotham, just a pair of overprotective parents visiting. As Danny helps the last of them get out onto the streets, Duke takes a moment to message the Bat group chat an update with the situation.

Got kidnapped by Two Face with Danny and his parents. We're good now, his parents blew up the walls and got us out, but you might wanna swing down to save Two Face from them. He ends the messages with a peace sign emoji and puts his phone on Do Not Disturb.

Whatever else happens is not his problem. He's got a dinner with his boyfriend's parents to get to, and he's sure it'll be just as fun as this unconventional hostage situation.

(send me a Halloween/autumn word and I'll write you a ghostlights drabble!)

[covenists]

✦ WHO'S FRED?, M. VERSTAPPEN

other than being his cat lady, his girlfriend got her master in halloween dress-up too.

A SEQUEL TO: MISS CRAZY CAT LADY. . .

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

OCTOBER 29, 2022

yourusername

liked by maudeapatow and 192,513 more

yourusername 🍃🌿

view all 470 comments

username WAIT IS THIS MAX'S CAT LADY???????

username hold up you

username no marc content????☹️☹️☹️

username can't believe max bagged her

⤷ maxverstappen1 i can't believe it too

⤷ username hold your heart eyes max

landonorris who's the joker? marc or max?

⤷ yourusername jimmy.

⤷ username 🙃

⤷ landonorris oh how i love the plot twist

sabrinacarpenter you look so pretty

sabrinacarpenter like wow

⤷ yourusername says the one who's prettier

maudeapatow i need us together again

⤷ yourusername set up the date, i'll come to you bbg

⤷ username maxverstappen1 look max she's doing it again

yourusername added to their story!

replying to: yourusername

oh look how cute you are🥰

i love you

replying to: maxverstappen1

so bad that you're not with me rn:(

replying to: yourusername

sorry sweetheart, i promise next year

yourusername replying to: maxverstappen1

don't promise something you can't fulfill, you know.

₊˚⊹౨ৎ ⋆｡✦

OCTOBER 2023

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, dakotafanning, badgalriri, and 859,712 more

yourusername waiting on my mystery machine... 🚘👻

view comments...

username SHE ATE AND DELIVERED

username slay soul sister

username DAPHNE LOOKS VERY GOOD ON YOUUU OMG

redbullracing daphne to our fred

⤷ maxverstappen1 who's fred?

⤷ yourusername i'm going to delete all my memory about you asking this publicly 🫣

⤷ redbullracing oopsie🫢

landonorris maxverstappen1 HA! GOTCHA

⤷ maxverstappen1 landonorris shut up

⤷ username mom look they're fighting

lilymhe probably next time we'll be winx

⤷ yourusername great idea i'll be ordering the wigs from now on. 💇‍♀️🦋

matthewlillard very on point, love the pattern!

⤷ yourusername OMG OMG OMG I'M LITERALLY SHAKIGN WHATTT

⤷ yourusername I'M YOUR BIGHRST FAN SIR

⤷ username she is me like literally

⤷ username he's right, she's on point.

username okay hear me out...

username NAH WE DON'T NEED THEM ACTRESS BUT HER FOR DAPHNE

username okay daphne, BUT MAN VELMA?????? on the ground rn

username why aren't max there?

⤷ yourusername he's busy for being a sombrero man in mexico🙃

⤷ maxverstappen1 could be that

username AW MAX CMON WE HAVEN'T GOT ANYTHING FROM YOU

⤷ yourusername nExT yEaR iS oUR YeAR maxverstappen1

⤷ maxverstappen1 why am i scared

ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

ˑ⭒ʚ ִinstagram ݁.٭

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 989,857 more

maxverstappen1 funny how it's supposed to be spooky today...

view comments...

yourusername the caption is quite cheesy though...

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know, charles tell me that

⤷ carlossainz55 well you shouldn't trust him about instagram captions

username charles being the one who make the caption is just making me draw an x on my bingo card for today

⤷ username is he that bad?

⤷ username DARLING HE'S WORSE THAN BAD

⤷ username damn

⤷ username i mean after i see his instagram captions, it's all make sense now

username BUT AW MY GAAAHD THEY'RE SO CUTE LET ME DRINK LAVA RN

username HEY IT SHOULD BE SPOOKY TODAY (this month)

⤷ username i know he did this to made up his absence last year

⤷ maxverstappen1 an attempt has been made🤷

username but look at them in both twitter and instagram. they're having the best time of their life like damn i want it too

username are you happy to be in paris?

⤷ yourusername [pierre's voice] oui 🥐🥖🍷

⤷ username she's so mood

[kozachenko]

(Click the image for better quality)

Yipeeee that Keiki and Mayumi fanart I posted the WIP of is finally done woooo- This piece was a very experimental one that I'm kind of OK on. Maybe because I've just gone insane looking at it for so long and I'm my own worst critic lol.

Artist's Notes;

So I've once again been playing around with my rendering style, mainly because I have been wanting to improve my lighting for a while now and as I was just scrolling through Tumblr, I saw some of the official art for that one webcomic-turned-animated-TV-Show Lackadaisy and was immediately inspired. I also have seen a technique a few times in the past where the lineart and shading are merged together, so I've been meaning to try that for a little while.

I did some experimentation on this one sketch of Keiki I posted in my sketch dump and I really liked the results of it, so I carried those over to this piece.

I ended up scaling up Keiki and Mayumi from the original WIP because I felt like they were both getting lost in the composition, and I'm glad for that because I think it works a lot better. I'm not a fan of how Mayumi's sword turned out at all, but it's not really meant to be the focus of the piece so eh. Overall, I think I could do better with my colours, probably because with Keiki and Mayumi's colours, I did them flat in greyscale and then used a brush on the overlay blend mode to colour all of them over, after which I changed the base layer for their colours from white to yellow and then lowered the opacity so it all went together better. I also decided to use gradient maps for a lot of the background elements, mainly to experiment with getting in my values first to make them pop out more. I ended up finding a really nice sky gradient on Clip Studio Paint that I really liked, and that kinda helped to establish the colour scheme of the background a lot. I think the whole "start in greyscale then colour" thing really works better with painterly styles rather than more illustrative ones, and while it is good at making sure your values are more readable, I honestly don't think I have the skill level to pull that off yet. Honestly, I think I've been looking at this drawing too long or maybe I added too much to it, but I wish I could've made the colours less monochromatic, but I'll just save that for the next piece I do.

I do love how the flame (...well it's more of a weird space rift than anything in this piece) and the lighting turned out, those were fun to do. I was initially struggling with the flame and how Mayumi is positioned in front of it before realizing "Oh wait! This is a weird abstraction of a weird creature! I don't have to follow the laws of anatomy!" and just dislocated it's flamey bottom jaw from the main body. I also changed the colours of it since I was really not liking how incredibly bright it was when it had lighter colours. Again, the gradient maps served the more painterly style of the flames well.

I also love how Mayumi turned out. I could do her sleeves better but that's more of just me needing to study how those types of sleeves fold in that position more. I'm also very happy with the posing, the technique I used for that was taking photos of myself in the positions I wanted, blocking in the silhouette and then modifying that by adjusting it to my lines of action that I drew on top of the original photos, and then sketching over the silhouettes and drawing in the shapes of the hands overtop of the photo if I needed to get the fine details right. As for what I do to take the pictures myself, I use a tall chair I have, prop up my phone with a phone stand, put on a ten second timer and scramble to get in position. Yes, I did have to use a bunch of thin markers I had to try and get the hand positioning on Keiki's pose right, yes I do have a fake sword that I used to get the positioning of Mayumi's arms and hand right, the sword was for an old Halloween costume from several years ago. I really like how both Keiki and Mayumi turned out in this drawing, I'll have to play around with these designs for them more in future drawings.

Also, if you wanna know why I draw buildings like that, when I watched Fantasia 2000 as a kid (One of the Disney movies where they make really beautiful animations to classical music) the way they drew the buildings in the first few sections Rhapsody in Blue segment (the jazz one with the cities) changed my brain chemistry and now whenever I need to draw buildings really quickly, I refer back to that. Since the buildings aren't really the main subject, I didn't put much thought into them.

As you can tell I am very tired of this piece, mainly because I made things harder for myself by overcomplicating the process compared to what I usually do, mainly with the whole "starting in grayscale then adding colour." I'd honestly just prefer having a black layer set to colour that I can just toggle on and off when I need to see the values, but it was good to experiment. And that was mainly the point of this whole drawing, to experiment. I'm definitely going to have to play around with this new style I'm going for, mainly because I liked how it turned out a lot in the augmented Keiki sketch, and also because I want to find ways of making it suit my style more. I also really want to keep experimenting with my lighting like this, it's very fun. Last but not least I am never starting in greyscale again because dear god I do not like the workflow it forced me into. I don't have a problem with the method itself it's mainly just a skill issue lol.

If you wanna read my headcanons for these two, I put them in my WIP post, so you can read them there if you want to. The more I look at this the more I prefer the simplicity of my WIP. I might go back to this and just take away the fancy colours and effects to see what it looks like without all of that stuff and reblog this post with that drawing, but for now, I don't think I can look at this drawing again for a while.

[sebsbarnes]

letters to a loved one || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

a/n: this is a lot different than my normal works so i hope you enjoy this different format

aug 5th, 2022: i know it's only been two days since you left but i miss you so much already! good luck today, kick some ass!! mwah! xoxo

aug 15th, 2022: hi honey. i hope the mission went well a few days ago! even though email is the safest way we can communicate while you're gone i know you can't always respond even if you're in a safe house. i'm not too worried, i know how skilled you and lemon are. tell him i say hi! i can't wait for you to be home, you estimated you'd be back on the 17th so i have a nice dinner planned. <3 love you so so much my sweet tang!

aug 27th, 2022: hey tang, i can't lie and say i'm not a tiny bit worried but i keep telling myself you've been gone longer before with zero communication. maybe it feels different now because of how long we've been together. i miss waking up to you and grabbing our keys and heading out for the day. if you see this message me back! even if you can't fully respond i'll settle with a smiley face if i must! haha. oh by the way i still cooked that dinner i had planned for us, it came out soooo yummy. but it took so long omg! you're lucky i love you and i'm willing to spend 8 hours in the kitchen again. it will probably taste better this time since you will be by my side. love you lots!

sept 12th, 2022: i only just saw the news of the bullet train derailment in japan on august 5th. that was your mission wasn't it? you said the 5th. i'm worried more now, i can't lie, but like i tell you every day i know how skilled you are. even though i never want to wish you are in a hospital i hope that's where you are recovering with lemon by your side. when you get the chance please email me back, okay? i love you.

sept 14th, 2022: tangerine if you see this please email or call me.

sept 30th, 2022: i wish i could talk to you just once. one word so i know you are okay. i can't reach lemon either. i wake up every day hoping you will be laying next to me. please, please give me something so i know you are alright? anything. where are you tangerine? i don't want to keep crying but that's all i can do. sit here in our empty house and cry. the walls feel like they are closing in on me. i went to our favorite breakfast spot the other day and i got that really sweet older lady with the grey curly hair as my waitress. she asked where you've been. i don't know how much longer i can keep saying you are gone for work and people believe it... i no longer believe it either. i hate typing it out. i don't want to believe something awful happened but something did, didn't it? i can feel it in my body. please reach out to me, i miss you so much and i love you so so much tangerine, please.

oct 26th, 2022: i love halloween, you know that more than anyone. decorations everywhere, piles of candy, and everyone dressing up pretending to be someone else for the night. now i feel bad about how much i bugged you about this year's halloween. my friends keep telling me to come out and join them, but if i'm being honest it's hard to do anything these days. it doesn't help that they think you just left me, ghosted me i guess. but they don't know what you do for work and i can't tell them. so i have to listen to them talk shit about you and i sit there trying to convince them you aren't this evil guy who ditched me and never looked back. maybe i should listen, maybe it's easier to believe you just left me than admitting to myself you're no longer here. i'm holding out, i'm trying so fucking hard to, tan. maybe in some sick joke you will pop up on halloween dressed in some stupid costume with a mask covering your face and in some grand reveal you will pull the mask off and i'll be in your arms again. it's wishful thinking. well, i have to go now, i'm meeting with a co-worker. love you.

dec 1st, 2022: i should be waking up this morning with your arms wrapped around me nearly crushing every bone in my body. but i didn't. and i haven't since the beginning of august. is it cruel now to admit i think you are gone. i really think you are and part of me has thought this since i saw the news of the bullet train. i feel scared. i'm starting to forget the little things about you. i can't play back the sound of your laugh in my head. i can't really picture the way your eyes crinkled. it makes me feel ill. i don't want to forget the small details about you. i crave to whisper goodnight and i love you to you. i crave just for your body next to mine. in the most innocent forms i crave you, like the way you'd absentmindedly play with my hair or pull out my chair or charge my phone when i always forget. the simple things i'm missing the most. i didn't realize i had so many forms of love until you've been gone. happy anniversary, dear.

jan 17th, 2023: tangerine, i'm not sure why i opened this email account. it's been over a month since i've checked it. maybe it was because i heard your favorite song earlier and thought of you a bit more than usual these days. i secretly hoped there would be a new message but that's foolish of me.

april 7th, 2023: Dear Tangerine, I know you won't read this email, but I felt as though I needed to explain what life has been like recently. My friends no longer bring you up in conversation which I am grateful for. I had to stop visiting our favorite breakfast place, each time I went they asked about you, even as recently as three weeks ago. I will miss their egg sandwich that you recommended to me on our third date but it is better off I no longer go there. Work has been great, a bit busy, but good. I removed your picture from my desk at the beginning of the new year. I saw the way my co-workers would stare a bit too long at it, I guess seeing it reminded them how I never mentioned you anymore. Speaking of co-workers, a few emails ago I mentioned I was meeting up with one of them. We've been seeing each other a lot outside of work, I enjoy their company. I can never say this to them but when they kiss me and hug me I sometimes think it's you. That's wrong to admit especially since I think I'm developing feelings for them, but they will never see this. They are kind and treat me well which I know you would be pleased to hear. I packed up your clothes in my house and put them in a box. I couldn't keep looking at them. I cried so much that I don't think I can cry again for years to come. I would hug your shirts and jackets so much that they lost your smell. I regret that a bit. I opened the box a few days ago and it smelled like me. Almost all signs of you are gone now that the remnants of your cologne is worn off the fabric. I think I might sell the house. It's too big for a single person now. It's too quiet in here and it almost feels like someone is watching me, it doesn't feel safe. Maybe that's because you provided me with safety. I'm not doing much today, it's actually pretty early right now, maybe I'll cook that dinner I never got to cook for you. I haven't since that day. I'm realizing how silly I sound in my own head as I type these words. Maybe I'll invest in a journal soon.

[melswifeasf]

Safest in your arms pt 10

previous chapter || next chapter || series page

Pairing: Georgia Miller x fem!oc

Summary: fall fest was supposed to be a fun activity for Samantha but it turned into nothing but a huge disappointment.

Warnings: (18+) MDNI, cursing, age gap relationship (18 and 30) grooming.

HALLOWEEN WAS THE BEST time of the year which all six friends could account for. they could dress slutty, get drunk and go to parties the whole weekend. it wasn't until their sophomore year they ditched the whole 'binge scary movies and stuff their faces with candy' deal and started going out instead. they had wanted to go to a party that night but none of them had planned a costume and Ellen had said she preferred her daughter to just go out on Saturday instead. Samantha didn't push it, it wasn't like her to do so.

the group of friends were in Matthews like most weekends. they were all sitting on the couch except for Natalie and Oliver who were on the floor like they had been last time they were there the last they were there. it was almost midnight and she thought by now she would be with a certain blonde but her friends were very persistent on her staying and she couldn't say no. even then that didn't stop her from texting her.

🍑 : are you gonna be at the festival

tomorrow?

S: prob? depends on if my friends

are going

S: are you?

🍑: i have to since Paul is running for

mayor again, he needs everyone in

the office with him.

S: does this mean Georgia Miller is

going to dress up?

🍑: i have to do that?

S: ofc you do, ur in the Mayors office

you kind of don't have a choice

🍑: does that mean your dressing up?

S: for the festival? no lmao.

S: i prob will later though, i think we're

going to some party

🍑: will i be able to see your costume?

S: i'll send pics;)

🍑: i'll be looking forward to it

🍑: what will your costume be?

S: idk tbh, we're all dressing up together

but they can't decide on what it should

whilst she waited for a response from the blonde she put her phone face down in her lap and turned her head to look at her friends. she was laying her head on Jades lap, her hair was being played with softly. Nia had Samanthas legs on her lap and Matthew was sitting beside the brunette with a respectable space between them. it was understandable that they wanted to keep things between them under wraps, especially considering they were still taking things slow and Oliver was overly protective when it came to Nia and her love life. she only ever had one boyfriend during her Junior year but it only last six months because Oliver would always try and scoot himself in between them. it wasn't fair, Nia never did that with him and Nat.

"i think we should go as nuns" Matthew said and looked up from his phone. they all laughed.

"the day i see you in a nun outfit will probably be the day that i die." Jade said with a chuckle.

"you putting that on would be an insult to nuns and i'm not even religious like that," Natalie said.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "okay i get it, i like sex." he shrugged. Samantha wondered if he was actually offended or if he was just acting like that because he always did. a part of her would believe he was offended, especially since the girl he currently had a thing with was sitting right beside him and listening to everything. although that shouldn't matter, Nia knew who Matthew was since the day they met and it's not like all of that knowledge would disappear now that they were figuring things out.

"more like you get around." Jade mumbled with a small chuckle making the girl in her lap slap her arm softly in warning.

"what about the avengers?" she proposed, trying her best to differ the conversation from him and to something else. "there's six of them so the numbers check out" she continued.

Oliver scrunched his nose, "i don't think any of us want to be hulk"

"or hawkeye" Nia mumbled.

Samantha sighed, "okay. any other ideas?" they had been going at it for a while now and it was starting to annoy everyone in the room. it was just hard, none of them wanted to pick something basic but there weren't that many group costumes, especially with six.

"we could all just wear purge masks" Natalie shrugged making both Samantha and Nia grimace.

"ew that's like super 2019. that is the most boring shit ever" she said shaking her head. Natalie sighed.

"okay then i don't know"

the room fell silent once more as they thought about more ideas. Matthew was on his phone searching for ideas but he seemed to be coming up with the same things over and over.

"what about toy story" Nia said making the raven girl point at her in agreement.

"i can be barbie. she's hot" she said earning a small smile from Jade.

"true." she agreed.

"holy shit," Oliver muttered making them all look at him in confusion. "Matthew and i could be Kens and you girls could be barbie." he proposed with a huge smile. that didn't sound like a bad idea at all, she doubted anyone else would think of doing that. it just surprised her that Oliver was the one to think about that over everyone else. she'd expect that from Nia or maybe even Jade but Oliver? that was something she never saw coming.

"why are you actually kind of a genius" Nia said matching her brothers grin.

"i think i'm more of a raquel though," Jade said, her lips twisted to the side as she was looking at the space in front of her in thought.

"i totally see that" Natalie nodded then gasped as she looked down at her boyfriend in excitement. "we could be Ken and Barbie from the Toy Story movie." she said happily.

Oliver's grin grew wider, "you're a genius babe" he said and the blonde shrugged sheepishly before she leaned down to press a soft kiss on the boys lips.

"i'll be howdy Ken," Matthew said, his lip curling into a smirk.

"valid, valid." Samantha nodded, "i never thought i'd see you in a cowboy costume and honestly i love that for you"

Nia frowned, "but then what would i be? i don't want to be in some horrid 80's work out jumpsuits" she said sadly.

"you could match with me" Matthew offered, his smirk gone and replaced with a small smile that everyone else in the room messed but Nia couldn't.

"yeah, you guys would look great." Natalie said to try and encourage her friend. they really needed to come to a conclusion so they could get the costumes the next morning.

"that just leaves you," Jade said looking down at Samantha.

"i'll be og barbie. you know, with the pink dress? god i'm gonna look so hot" she sighed out a bit dreamily causing them all to laugh.

"i sometimes forget how obsessed you are with yourself," Natalie chuckled.

"whatever, it's called self love." Samantha bit back and threw up her middle finger at everyone in the room.

they all started to talk about what they needed to buy which wasn't much since most of them already had clothes that could go with it. the only person who didn't was Natalie and Oliver because he needed a hawaiian shirt. Samantha figured her dad would have one though she offered to try and look for one for him. Samantha would just wear a pink dress that she already had and wear glittery eyeshadow along with pink heels to really seal the deal.

Samantha didn't feel her phone vibrate any more meaning Georgia hadn't texted her back. she tried not to overthink it, the blonde was probably asleep by now. it's not that she needed to talk to Georgia every minute of the day but the blonde had been a bit distant since the morning and she wondered if she did something wrong. the day that they hooked up Samantha and her stayed up another hour before the blonde grew tired and fell asleep, as soon as she did Samantha snuck out through the balcony. it was thankfully still slightly dark outside, the sun had just began to rise so it wasn't completely light outside. things were fine even the morning after, their dynamic didn't change but she was starting to wonder if the blonde had just now started to regret it, the reality of it all finally sinking in. the thought alone made her stomach hurt.

now that she knew what being with Georgia was like, life before her seemed so boring. nothing compared to the night they shared, the chemistry, the passion and overall it was just so fucking hot and every time she thought about it a light shade of pink would cross her features. her overthinking was cut short by Jade who locked her phone and threw it on the empty spot beside her.

"guess what i heard," she said a small smirk playing at her lips. everyone stopped to look at the girl, each of them just as confused, including Samantha who was looking at her with furrowed brows.

"what?" Oliver chuckled.

Jade looked down at Samantha, "Sophie Sanchez and your sister are talking." she said, her smirk never leaving.

"holy shit, are you for real?" Matthew laughed in slight amazement. Samantha didn't say anything as she waited for Jade to respond to him. there was no way Max was talking to someone - specifically someone she knew and wouldn't tell her. the thought alone hurt her feelings more than she thought it would.

Jade nodded, "yeah. i heard it from Kate. i think she even invited her to some party Brodie's throwing." she laughed and anyone who had common sense knew she was making fun of Max.

the raven haired girl didn't even care to comment on that. all she could think about was the fact that her sister was talking to someone and she didn't bother to loop her in. maybe she was a hypocrite considering she didn't tell the girl about her ex girlfriend but that was different, she couldn't tell Maxine because she knew it would ruin a lot of friendships and she didn't think it was fair for that to happen when all she wanted to do was to be happy. Maxine didn't have that problem, it's not like Samantha would get mad if she talked to Sophie. she just wished she was important enough in Maxs life to have been in the circle. maybe she was a shittier sister than she thought she was.

the girls mood had drastically changed and the only person who seemed to notice was Nia who began to rake her fingers through the girls hair. "you okay?" she asked softly, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Samantha shook her head as she tried to form a smile, "yeah." she whispered.

both of them knew she was lying.

the next day the group of friends all rode together to the festival. they had all gotten everything they needed for their costume and there was a while until they needed to get ready so they decided why not go. Natalie Oliver were still parking the car seeing as there wasn't any empty parking spaces so they dropped the four friends off before driving off to try and find a space. as soon as Nia and Jade saw that there was fresh apple cider they each broke away from Matthew and Samantha leaving them on their own. they were each waiting for the two girls near the face painting station where Samantha could clearly see her sister and her friends.

what she had heard yesterday was still fresh in her heart and seeing her sister only made it sting even more. she never thought she would be left in the shadows of her sisters life and yet here she was.

she wasn't the only one overthinking though. Matthew glanced at the shorter girl briefly, his heart was beating faster than usual which he had never felt before. why was he nervous? he only felt like this before games. he sighed, "can i ask you something?" he spoke up breaking Samanthas stare in her sisters direction and directing her sight toward him.

she had an idea of what he would be asking but nodded regardless, "what's up?"

"has Nia told you anything.. about us lately?" he asked a bit hesitantly, he paused to try and get the words out without seeming too n invested.

Samantha shook her head, "about what?" she asked feigning confusion. she didn't want to throw her friends under the bus like that, especially not with the literal guy she was crushing on.

Matthew looked at her with 'seriously' look on his face. "you're her best friend and she hasn't said anything? i don't believe you" he said and crossed his arms against his chest.

the raven girl rolled her eyes, "if you already knew the answer then why'd you ask."

Matthew shrugged, "i want you to be honest."

"she has."

"what did she say?" he quickly responded.

Samantha looked at him with raised brows, not at all used to seeing him this desperate. "just that you guys talked during Sophomore sleepover." she said honestly. they hadn't really spoken since and she assumed it was because they were taking things slow.

Matthew nodded, his face turning so he was looking in front of him and not directly at the shorter girl. "that's it?"

"did you want her to tell me something else?"

he shook his head. "i just.. i know she likes me and all but i don't know if she would want to actually go on a date with me." he said scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Samantha's expression softened, she now understood that it wasn't just one of his usual conquest, he actually care for Nia. "i think she'd say yes"

"really?" he asked his head snapped back toward the girl. she nodded with a gentle smile.

"yeah."

the boy couldn't contain his smile so he turned back around, "okay" he confirmed. neither of them could continue their conversation considering the sole topic of it was walking toward them with a cup in hand. she was laughing at something Jade had said and Samantha didn't miss the way the boys eyes shinned at the sight. she loved them together.

the brunette and Jade approached them, each holding a cup of cider. "want some?" Nia offered Samantha as she held her cup out but Samantha shook her head.

"im good. thanks though." she said earning a smile from the brunette as she went back to talking with Jade.

soon enough Oliver and Natalie were walking toward them hand in hand, once they were caught up with the group they walked around a bit to see what they could do. there were some activities which they participated in which really just means Oliver and Matthew would compete with one another. they spent half an hour carving a pumpkin which both looked equally as bad, none of them had the heart to tell them that though. that thankfully didn't last long since they all went toward the stage when they heard Paul begin to announce who had won the decoration competition. they all knew who the winner was even before so it was really pointless.

Samantha could see Georgia up on the stage, their eyes met for a second, each of them sharing a smile before the blonde turned to talk to her coworker. the six teens were in the crowd, half of them whispering to each other whilst Nia and Matthew were watching Samantha and the blonde exchange small glances.

"bootylicious really takes the whole costume thing seriously." Matthew said with a small smirk knowing the name he called her would annoy her.

he was right, the raven girl rolled her eyes at him. "shut up" she mumbled making both Nia and Matthew glance at one another in amusement. she looked so hopelessly in love and yet couldn't see that herself.

"best window decoration," Paul announced, a small card being pointed at him so he could read off of it. he was wearing a suit that was unbuttoned to reveal a super man costume, he was even wearing a black wig and glasses to complete the look. "goes to.. Liz Chavez" he finished earning an applause from the crowd. they watched as a trophy was brought up to Paul before her gave it away to the winner. "winner of best apple pie," Cynthia which isn't a surprise at all. "to the surprise of no one, goes to Cynthia Fuller." as they all expected. everyone began to clap once more but neither Samantha nor her friends did.

"bitch," Jade muttered under her breath making them all laugh.

"careful, the witch might hear." Matthew quickly whispered before turning back toward the front so they could watch the red head take a picture with the mayor. Samantha saw the small and cold interaction between her and Georgia when she grabbed the trophy from the blondes hand. that made a smile form on her lips, she loved that about Georgia. the camera snapped a quick picture and the redhead pulled away from the mayor and behind him on the stage.

"and now a very exciting announcement from the mayors office. we are going to be renovating the Wellsbury public library." cheers erupted from the crowd once more, even from the six teens who were glad they were finally going to do something different in the town.

not everyone had the same reaction though, Cynthia walked back up toward the front of the stage clearly upset with what she had just heard. "but the library is one of the most historic buildings." she said.

"exactly. this is why it deserves upkeep." Paul nodded. "we're gonna be adding a third floor. we are going—"

he was quickly interrupted by the red head who sounded even more upset, "upkeep? sounds like your plan is to depreciate a beloved landmark." she said in a condescending tone then reached over to snatch the mic causing it to make a slight squeaking sound making everyone cringe.

"fuck." Samantha muttered knowing whatever was going down wouldn't be good.

"what Wellsbury deserves is a mayor with a vested interest in preserving that standards in this town. i mean, first the drugs, now the library. where does it stop?" she said. cameras were snapping pictures repeatedly, each of them wanting the hot new story for the day.

"bitch needs to get laid," Nia joked earnings snickers from the group.

"someone get her a broom so she can fly away." Oliver added making his girlfriend shove him softly, not able to contain her amusement at his words.

"green gardens actually allowed us to have a surplus that far exceeds—"

"i saw Mayor Randolph last night on a date." she interrupted him, talking louder to drown his words out. murmurs erupted in the crowd causing her to nod, "yes. with his assistant" she confessed pointing at the blonde in accusation.

the crowd fell silent at her words just like Samantha felt her stomach drop, her before amused expression replaced with a blank expression. the three oblivious teens began to whisper their surprise whilst Nia and Matthew looked at their friend worriedly. they glanced at one another, each of them trying to have a silent conversation so try and figure out what to do.

Samantha's eyes locked with Georgia who looked nothing short of regretful but she quickly looked away, turning her attention to Paul making that horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach intensify. this was why she had been super distant they day before. she probably couldn't find the balls to tell her that she wanted to end things then. it shouldn't even matter, they aren't even together but that didn't take away the absolute pain she was feeling in her chest. was this what all of her one night stands felt when she didn't talk to them anymore? was this her karma?

she chuckled softly, her head shaking in disbelief. she felt stupid for ever thinking her and Georgia could be anything but a simple fuck.

"let's go." she said dryly, not even turning to look at her friends as she began to walk away from the crowd. not even Cynthia making a skeptical of herself could make her feel better and all she wanted was to get that horrible feeling out of her body and never have to talk to Georgia again. the pettiness of her words didn't matter to her, she didn't care that it had only been two months since they met, or that they only had sex once and that they never agreed to be exclusive. it was the fact that Georgia didn't tell her, the fact that she kept her in the dark and even texted her asking if she would be able to see her after she went to the halloween party because Ginny would be out til late. did she think she could just keep her little date a secret?

no, fuck her.

none of them questioned her as they walked to Oliver's car, at least not until they were actually in it. "why'd we leave? i wanted to get my face painted." Oliver said when he began to pull out of the parking space. his words earned him a slap in the back of his head from his sister who was sitting directly in the seat beside him.

"ouch, what the fuck?" he said his hand rubbing the impact to try and soothe the pain. Nia shot her brother a look through the rear view mirror which cause him to shut up a second later. Samantha wasn't paying attention to Jade and Natalie who looked extremely confused by the whole situation.

thankfully Matthew was the one who solved the problem which meant more to Samantha then she could ever really express. "Sam was having an attack." he lied. well, it wasn't a complete lie, she was having a sort of anxiety attack but it didn't have to do with the crowd around her.

"are you okay?" Jade asked quickly after, she turned her head to look at her friend with worried eyes.

Samantha nodded softly, "i'm good. i just didnt take my meds today." which also wasn't a lie. since she stayed the night at Matthews she didn't have her pills. she was planning on taking them before going to the party since she wasn't planning on drinking, the idea of driving to Georgias house drunk was incredibly irresponsible but that wasn't the case anymore and she was starting to regret it. in fact the only thing that could make her feel better at this point would be blacking out so she didn't have to think about her shitty love life. funny how she went from not having one just a month ago and now it was more complicated than ever.

[maliland]

RESENTMENT: PT. 1

"i gotta look her in her eyes and see she's had half of me." part two

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: flashbacks/backstory stuff, angst, infidelity, homewrecking, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 2669 banner credz: @/cafekitsune

a/n: first fic on this ho 😓 nervous. idk if i like this so i was procrastinating.. but lmk what y’all think! 🫣 i’ll post a post a poll the end of the fic. if y’all like it then i’ll finish up the second part and post it whenever i get a chance. i haven't proof read, but i'll fix any mistakes when i do.

(nd let me ease your nerves: this is not a fic where miles cheats on reader w/ gwen. she isn’t included in or mentioned in this part or the next 😭)

unfaithfulness might as well be a disease. not one that can be contracted, but one that stems from within. 

those who are unfaithful are unequivocally the weakest links. you? you've always presumed them to be snakes that were to join lucifer on earth at the very beginning of time, because they'd rather cause havoc and jeopardize how those they love perceive them rather than relish eternal peace in the clouds. had adam and eve left the forbidden fruit alone, the one thing that those unfaithful could've stayed faithful to was their identity as whispering serpents. alas, that's not how the story goes. and for the sake of free will, god decided they should reside on earth with those who know nothing but faith. 

betrayal isn't limited to one kind of person. whether the relationship is romantic or platonic, anyone can smile in your face, only to turn around and drive a pre-sharpened knife right through your back when you least expect it. you're left to bleed out while you try and make sense of why it had to be you.

you've been double-crossed before, but never bad enough to the point where you needed to make a huge deal out of it. it was usually stupid stuff, like your elementary friends ratting out your genius hiding spot during hide and seek after they got found, or your mom revoking her promise to take you to the park that one day after school when you were younger. your ex-best friend from middle school spreading nasty rumors about you was far more serious than all the other instances, and it was probably the worst one until now. 

you know that girls and guys alike get cheated on. you've heard stories and even seen it happen firsthand. infidelity occurs more frequently than you initially thought it did. then again, you tried not to think about it much because you were positive it would never happen to you. ever. especially not with your boyfriend, miles.

that was your first mistake—thinking you were immune.

you wanted to gauge your eyes out when your best friend video called you and showed you that photo of miles kissing another girl in a bedroom at a halloween party. 

the girl you were once worried about.

❤︎₊ ⊹

when you were younger, you were in love with the idea of being in love. 

many of your earliest memories consisted of your father reading you fairytales right before bed, since your mother was never around to do so. when he learned that you took a liking to stories that were more centered around love, he began to look for various fairytales pertaining to such that he could read to you. you adored how the love interests would always end up together by the end of each and every story. after enduring all the conflict getting in the way of their relationship thriving, it felt like a reward. you always felt secure knowing a happy ending was guaranteed no matter what transpired throughout the story. you liked that security, but your obsession with it inevitably flawed your perception of love itself. you grew up under the impression that love in the reality in which you reside wouldn't be all that different from the fairytales.

it hurt you when you finally discovered that that wasn't the case. in eighth grade, you had asked your crush to the winter formal. he had harshly rejected you, cracking the most heartless jokes in addition, in attempt to impress his friends, who were indeed laughing up a storm. that encounter alone was enough to ground you to earth. you discovered how disappointing the world and its inhabitants truly were, and how the unrealistic fairytales you once swooned over would never be real life. maybe it was insane of you to ever even think so, given the perilous city you live in.

seeing as dating these days is more detrimental than beneficial, during your sophomore year of high school, you decided that you'd steer clear from being romantically involved in any way, shape, or form entirely. of course, the universe always sends you someone or something you stopped wishing for ages ago when you least expect it. maybe something you didn't even long for anymore at all. you were perfectly okay with sticking to romance novels. you sure didn't want to put your peace on the line, especially not in the name of romance—but someone changed that.

miles.

you knew of his existence before you started dating him, but only briefly. you had an algebra class together your sophomore year, but the boy was quite reserved, only speaking when spoken to. trying to keep to himself and stay out of your school's public eye completely backfired on him, because he became the topic of everyone's conversations multiple times for a full week after his father, the former police captain, passed away. 

officer morales' death was a humbling reminder that brooklyn would only continue to grow more and more minacious. you haven't gone for a walk at night by yourself for as long as you can remember. you'd either be mugged, killed, or both. on the streets of new york, there was peril lurking around every corner. the city has more loose criminals than you were able to count on your fingers. you got used to living in such an environment, but your arm hairs never did stop shooting up whenever you had to step outside.

you recall giving your condolences to miles when he returned to school two weeks later. he had just nodded. you couldn't blame him though. everyone was constantly reminding him of something he'd rather not think about.

if he wasn't reticent and constrained to silence before, he was sure as hell was now. you tried your luck with him anyway, though.

whenever you'd see him sketching in his sketchbook in algebra, you'd compliment his skill or ask him what he was drawing. maybe it seemed a little invasive at the time, but your heart was in the right place. 

"i didn't know you could draw," you whispered to him. your desk was right next to his, so ignoring you wasn't really an option.

"yeah."

"that's cool, art takes skill—and patience," you had smiled.

"mhm."

you fell into a routine of asking miles what he was drawing every day in class. he was undoubtedly annoyed by it at first, but he eventually got used to it, and you finally got more than a one-word response. it was this conversation in particular that changed the way miles saw you.

"is that the prowler's suit you're drawing?" you whispered, surveying the page.

miles nodded and responded flatly. "yeah."

"i think it looks cool. i really like his suit design," you retorted. "especially the purple."

"you do?" he stopped drawing completely and looked up at you.

"hell yeah," you expressed with a faint grin. "he may be a criminal or whatever, but you gotta admit, his suit and his tech are pretty neat."

so then you two were friends for a couple of months. you'd do things like eat dinner at his house, help around the flat, and study together. surprisingly, miles' mom, rio, took a liking to you. she even taught you how to cook, and would let you assist with fixing dinner. 

miles had it was rare for his mama to warm up to people as fast as she did to you, and that made you feel special.

within the period of time in which you and miles would hang out, you ended up catching feelings for him, which you pushed to the side without a second thought. you still firmly believed that a relationship would bring you nothing but trouble. what you didn't know was that miles felt the same way about you as you did him, and eventually, he decided that he couldn't hide his feelings for you anymore.

miles confessed to you one night under the water tower on the roof of his apartment complex. you'd been watching the sun go down together and talking about whatever came to mind. you could've gazed into his perfectly sculpted face until the end of time. you doted on the way his eyes glowed gold when the sun hit them just right.

"you helped me open up. i didn't think that was something i was capable of doing anymore," he had told you. "i really do like you, [name]."

though you were terrified of putting yourself in a position to be played, you didn't want to say no, so you didn't. 

for the two years you've been with miles, you've never not trusted him. he's never given you a reason not to. he's always treated you like royalty, practically kneeling at your feet like being in your presence was a reward all by itself—at least that's what you felt like being his girlfriend equated to. 

it's no secret that miles tends to capture the attention of numerous girls without ever even having to try, whether they went to your school or simply passed him by on the street. miles didn't even have to lift a finger to have them drooling.

when you two got together, you didn't announce your relationship to the public like you were some kind of celebrity couple. that didn't stop people from gossiping like you were, though. according to everyone who went to visions, "miles and [name] popped out with each other out of nowhere!" and that was okay with you. nobody needed to know the ins and outs of you two's relationship. unfortunately, the obvious fact that you and miles were together didn't stop girls from constantly trying to have their way with him—one girl in particular was more persistent than the rest.

you'd be lying through your teeth if you said it didn't bother you at first, because it made you sick to your stomach. the thought of miles leaving you for one of those girls was one you couldn't bear. 

you vividly recall standing beside miles while he was situating his books in his locker before a girl who was well-known around campus, arielle, approached your boyfriend on the opposite side and 'not-so-subtly' flirted with him like you weren't even there. it was no secret that she didn't like you, so you were stuck between trying to figure out if she actually liked miles or was just trying to get under your skin. all you knew was the way she was twirling her perfectly spiraled, bouncy, brown curls around her index while she bit her lip bottom had you undeniably heated. 

"so miles, i've been learning how to braid hair," she had said. "honestly, i think i've pretty much mastered it. i want to practice cornrows... problem is, i couldn't find anyone with the type of hair i prefer to practice on, but then i saw you!"

you had to turn around and face the opposite direction just to hide the distaste that hastily painted your once-neutral expression. you brought your arm to your mouth and coughed twice so it wouldn't look like you were turning around for no reason. when you turned back around, arielle was looking you dead in the eyes, like you had done something horrible to her. you were surprised that she decided to give you even a fraction of her attention instead of acting like you were a ghost altogether.

you returned the energy, narrowing your eyes to slits. you weren't going to go toe to toe with another girl over a boy who was clearly yours. you had just redone miles' hair not even three full days ago, so she'd had to find another guy to practice on.

you shifted your gaze onto miles as he closed his locker. he hadn't even said a word to arielle up to that point, or even looked at her. when he finally made eye contact with the girl, she smiled innocently, as if she wasn't trying to murder you by burning holes through your skull with the way she was staring at you. 

you were no longer bothered by the time miles turned his head to look at you. the way his face was twisted was more than telling, with confusion written all over it. you read that boy like a book. 

"i mean, come on," arielle giggled. "you'd be the perfect person to practice on."

this girl didn't know when to stop. you were silently growing furious, wishing miles would take your hand and drag you away from that foolishness, but no. instead, he chose to engage in conversation with arielle.

"what do you think of my hair now?" miles asked.

this made your stomach drop, but it didn't show on your face. instead of saying anything or trying to figure out why miles cared what this random ass girl thought, you stood still where you were, waiting for the worst to be over. at the time, you and miles had only been together for about five and a half months. you didn't expect your first relationship to end that quickly. if this conversation didn't wrap up soon, you were sure that your head would start spinning and you'd pass out on the spot.

"of course! the two braids always look so good on you. i love them," arielle angled her head and leaned against the locker next to miles'.

"so do i," miles smirked, snaking one of his arms around your upper back to the shoulder furthest away from him. he pressed his palm against your arm and gently urged you closer to him, pointing to you with his free hand then looking back at arielle. "my girl got me right the other day, and she did a damn good job."

a smile crept up onto your face. for only half of a second, you didn't want to come off like one of those annoying moms of five who got the last 75" flat-screen tv during black friday and rubbed it in everyone's faces in the checkout line, until you remembered who's boyfriend miles was.

yours.

you had bragging rights.

"thanks, miles," you looked up at him, smiling brightly as any and all doubts left your mind. your eyes soon met with arielle's again, who was in disbelief. it seemed that you'd exchanged expressions. you were the one geeking now. 

"damn, i'd say gossip doesn't spread like it used to, but the looks you were giving me tell me you know we're together and don't care."

arielle shifted her weight off of the locker, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. she was never one to admit, let alone accept defeat.

"girl, c'mon. don't be lame. miles wouldn't cheat on me. it's even crazier that you thought he'd flirt back while i was standing right here."

"have it your way, but he's gonna crack."

with that, arielle scoffed, opting to leave the situation alone for the day. that wouldn't be the last time she tried something like that, and it probably wasn't the first either. you just happened to be around to see it that time. it made you wonder how miles reacted every other time. you were also quick to question why she claimed miles would "crack." it rubbed you the wrong way.

"she's jus' talkin' outta her ass, hermosa. she likes attention," miles assured you.

for whatever reason, that response alone didn't satisfy you. you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach for the rest of the day. you remember calling miles that same night while you both did homework. in the midst of the comfortable silence that had settled, you decided to bring up how you felt about what had happened.

"i won't lie, earlier today, i was a little scared," you admitted.

"of what?"

"i thought you were gonna ditch me for arielle," you replied, letting out a deep sigh at the same time.

"i'd never," miles promised you. "te amo, chica. and only you. i'm with you for a reason."

"i love you, too," you grinned, genuinely feeling at ease. "i was just paranoid. i know now that you'd never do that to me."

the invasive thoughts that often crowded your mind and kept you up late at night; the ones listing each and every reason why your relationship with miles would crash and burn? they haven't bothered you since then.

©maybemymali

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You hated nothing more than watching Bradley leave for a deployment. But at least this time you knew that as soon as he returned, you would be sliding wedding bands on each other's fingers. 

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

The night before his flight to South Korea, Bradley couldn't shake you for a single minute. You seemed to want him everywhere with you, even to the extent that you asked him to help you cook Marry Me Rooster for dinner.

"Can you turn the oven on?" you asked him as you started to get the chicken ready. "And mix all of the spices up for me?" 

Bradley did as you asked, and then he kissed the back of your neck. "I need to make sure I packed a phone charger," he said, lying so he could get away from you.

"You're coming right back?" you asked, and Bradley melted a little bit inside.

"Yep," he promised before dashing to the bedroom. 

He knelt down on the floor and reached under the bed, pulling out a small box and the paper airplane he had already folded up. He knew he would only have a minute to get everything in order. He opened your nightstand and tucked the paper airplane inside with the box under it. Bradley wished he could have given you the gift in person, but this way you would see that he absolutely intended to fulfill his promise to you.

"Roo?" you called from the kitchen, and he could feel his heart skip a beat for you. He didn't want to leave your side for very long right now, either. 

"Coming, Baby Girl!" 

-------------------------

You were an absolute wreck. It had been getting worse since the Halloween party. And now that Bradley was leaving in the morning, you couldn't stop thinking about his injury from his last deployment. 

So you were perched on his lap at the dining room table while he ate a huge portion of Marry Me Rooster. "This is so good," he groaned, looking at you like the savior of mankind was sitting on his lap, all because you knew how to follow an old recipe. He held out the fork for you to take a bite of chicken, but you just shook your head.

"I'm not hungry."

He set the fork down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Are you worried about me missing the wedding?"

You shook your head. "No, Bradley. I'm worried about your safety. We can get married whenever." Your voice sounded small and your throat felt tight. 

"I will come back to you over and over again, Baby Girl. Nothing can keep me away."

"I know," you said, and you knew you were going to cry if you didn't get it under control. "I just keep thinking about how you came home last time, and I don't want anything like that to ever happen to you again."

Bradley held you against his chest and let you get your breathing under control. "I will be as careful as I possibly can be. Besides, Jake won't let anything happen to me, because it would upset you."

You started laughing at the truth of that statement. "You're probably right." 

You managed to take a few bites of dinner, but when Bradley tried to clean the kitchen you wouldn't let him.

"I will have plenty of time to clean the house while you're away. I need to get everything ready for my parents to stay with us anyway."

"Oh, hell no. They are not staying here this time," Bradley said, picking you up and carrying you to the couch. He dropped you gently onto your back and climbed on top, rubbing his mustache all over your face and neck.

You laughed and tried to make him stop as you asked, "Oh really? Where do you suggest I tell them to go, then?"

He pinned your hands above your head and nipped at your lips. "I'll get them a room at a five star hotel, but they are not staying here. Especially not on our wedding night."

"Oh," you gasped and then giggled. "I see your point. They did kind of cramp our style last time they stayed here."

"Mmm," he hummed next to your ear. "You are not good at being quiet for Daddy."

You licked your lips. "What? I'm always good for Daddy."

"You're a known brat, Baby Girl. And I fucking love you."

You let him gather you up into his arms and hold you. "Fine," you whispered. "You win. They can stay at a hotel."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

----------------------

Bradley stretched out on the couch with his head in your lap while you played with his hair. His arm dangled lazily over the cushion, and he pet Tramp who was curled up on the floor. 

"It's getting late, Baby Girl," he whispered, not wanting to move, but knowing you would need sleep for work tomorrow after you dropped him and Jake at the airport. "Let's go to bed so you're not tired."

"No, let's stay up longer," you countered. "I can sleep when you're away. Nobody will be constantly prodding me with their penis and wanting my attention for at least a week, if not two."

Bradley looked up at your smirking face. "Yeah, that better not be happening."

"We can go get in bed, Roo, but I'm not ready for sleep yet," you told him softly, turning off the TV and letting him give you a piggyback ride to your bedroom. You had your arms wrapped around him, and your lips were teasing his neck, and Bradley was starting to wonder exactly how many times he was going to have to leave you for deployments. 

He set you down on the side of the bed and turned to stand between your legs. You looked tired and worried in the soft lamp light, but still so perfect to him. 

"This is number four on the year. But really my fifth deployment with you."

You nodded, swallowing hard and you slowly moved to the middle of the bed and reached for him. "I hate them," you whispered as he crawled over to you. "But I love you."

Bradley kissed you, pressing you into the bed with his body weight. Your fingers were in his hair again, holding him to you until you moaned. "I'm going to miss you, Roo."

He pushed your shirt up and eased his hand along your bare breasts, watching your face change to a look of longing. "Next time I see you, Baby Girl, we'll be in the final days before the wedding."

"Please," you begged, pulling your shirt over your head. "Please make it back in time."

Bradley didn't say anything else, his lips too busy tasting all of you, until his face was buried in your pussy. 

"Please, please," you begged softly between gasps, and Bradley was no longer sure what you were begging him for. So he gave you everything. He made you cum on his tongue until you were pulling his hair and pleading with him louder. 

Then he made love to you, his cock buried deep inside until he was filling you up. He cradled your face in his hands and jerked in and out, cumming with your name on his lips.

When he kissed you, you simply whispered, "Please, Bradley. Just come home."

-------------------------

Bradley watched you swiping tears out of your eyes as you got dressed in his old UVA tee shirt and some leggings. You were wearing your glasses and watching him dress in jeans and a black tee for his long flight. 

"Come here," he said, and you shuffled into his arms, breathing him in with your face buried against his chest. "I love you. I'll be home soon. I'll call you if I can."

You nodded against him. "We need to leave," you whispered, your voice shaking. "So we have time to pick up Jake."

"Let's go, Sweetheart." 

You held his hand as he drank a mug of coffee and picked up Tramp for a kiss. You squeezed his hand as he hoisted his duffle bag onto his shoulder. 

"Your car or the Bronco?" he asked once you were leading him down the front steps.

You snorted. "Jake won't fit in my backseat with the bags," you said, leading him toward the Bronco. "But I can't believe you'd have willingly gone in my car, Roo."

"I would do anything for you," you said, tossing his bag into the back and closing the hatch. "Including paying for repairs to that shitty little death trap and riding around in it with you."

Bradley buckled you into the passenger seat, and kissed your nose before hopping in the driver's side and pulling out of the driveway. 

The ride was quiet. You didn't select a playlist, and he hadn't asked you to. You simply laced your fingers with his and occasionally kissed his hand. 

Even Jake joined the two of you with barely a word, but Bradley watched him squeeze your shoulder as he climbed in the back with his duffle. And then the three of you were on the highway, zipping along to a destination he didn't really want to reach. 

But by the time he was pulling up to the curb in front of the International Departures sign, he knew you would be crying when he looked at you. He could simply tell by the way your hand shook in his as he shifted into park and killed the engine.

"Baby Girl," he rasped, and you were already crawling across the seat and into his arms. 

"I love you," you sobbed quietly as your tears met his face where you pressed yourself against him. "Just come back home. Please." He held you so tight, his eyes closed against his own tears as you kissed him all over his face.

Bradley heard Jake open the door and climb out onto the curb, thankful he was giving the two of you some privacy. 

"As soon as I get back, we're getting married, Baby Girl. We'll have our super secret perfect wedding, and then I'll be your husband forever. And you'll be my wife." 

You were smiling and crying at the same time, and it was somehow impossibly beautiful. He straightened out your glasses, and you rested your forehead against his.

"It's going to be perfect," you said. "I can't wait to marry you."

Bradley mashed his lips to yours for a few seconds, memorizing the softness of your skin and the way you smelled. Then he scooped you up and climbed out of his door with you in his arms while Jake grabbed both bags.

When Bradley set you down on the sidewalk, he watched you fling your arms around Jake's neck and bury your face in his shoulder. "You need to come back safely. And you need to bring him with you, okay? Promise."

"I promise, Angel," Jake said, holding you against him. "You call the boys or Nat if you need anything."

"I will," you squeaked, and Bradley watched you place a sweet kiss on Jake's cheek, one that had the other man squeezing his eyes shut. 

And then Bradley knew, whether he liked it or not, he was absolutely stuck with Jake Seresin in his life forever now. Because for some reason you loved him. 

A second later, you were back in Bradley's arms again, your hands grabbing his chest and shoulders while you kissed him a little frantically. He pulled back a bit, taking your face between both hands and saying, "When you get home, check your drawer."

A laugh bubbled out of you. "Okay, Roo. And when you get on your flight, check your phone for some pictures that I'm going to text to you."

"I will, Baby Girl. I love you. More than anything." He kissed you one more time, holding every inch of your body against his before letting you go with his car keys in your hand along with his entire heart.

---------------------

You stood on the sidewalk amidst all of the horns honking and people walking around until you could no longer see Bradley and Jake inside the airport. Then you climbed into the Bronco and pulled slowly into traffic, making your way home to get changed for your half day of work. 

"I'm sorry, but it's just me," you told Tramp when he ran around in circles looking for Bradley. "Daddy will be back in seven to ten business days."

You started to think about what would happen if he missed your wedding date. You'd lose out on a bunch of deposit money for the food, pink champagne and confetti cake you already ordered. But you didn't care about that as much as you did about Bradley and Jake both getting home safely. 

"Oh my god," you gasped, running out of the kitchen and heading for your nightstand. You yanked the drawer open to find another paper airplane and a small jewelry box. He had written Baby Girl on the paper plane, and it looked so much like his tattoo, you squealed as you opened it up. 

Next time I write a note for you, it'll be my wedding vows.

"Bradley!" you screeched into the empty room as you sprawled out on the floor, kicking your feet up into the air. You and he would hopefully be sharing your wedding vows later this month, and you couldn't wait. You carefully folded the paper up so you could add it to his other deployment notes you had stashed away. 

Then you opened the jewelry box to reveal another charm for your necklace. It was a flat, gold disc. But when you pulled it out and flipped it over, your lips parted as you stared at it. 

It was engraved with your wedding date. Twenty three days from now. Bradley had twenty three days to get home and make the date on this charm a reality. You held it in your hand for a moment, rubbing your thumb along the smooth edge before gently placing it back in the box. You didn't think you should add this charm to the other two until he was home. 

You checked the time on your phone and got ready to send him the pictures you had taken the other day while he was in the garage working out. He and Jake were probably boarding their flight now, so you sent the photos you had painstakingly posed for. And then you changed into your uniform for work, trying not to drown in the lonely feeling that seemed to absorb you when Bradley was away.

----------------------------

Bradley had his phone in his hand, ready to scan his electronic boarding pass for the airline gate agent. He should have been paying closer attention, but he and Jake were sipping gross airport coffee and chatting about some of the scant mission details they knew when you texted him.

Bradley was pretty sure both the gate agent and Jake got a good look at your tattoo and your hand covering your pussy as the image flashed on his screen. But when he and Jake strolled down the jetway a moment later, Jake just cleared his throat.

"You know, you can change your phone settings so images stay hidden until you actually open the text," he drawled casually. "I think you should look into that. For all our sake."

"That's good to know," Bradley replied, feeling his cheeks growing warm. You had sent a few more photos, but he was too afraid to take his phone back out of his pocket right now. 

"The two of you are so disgustingly in love, I can't even be mad about it," Jake said, leading the way toward the seats that had been assigned next to each other. Bradley took the window seat and Jake took the aisle seat in the exit row, and they both got settled in. 

"Still can't believe she picked me," Bradley mumbled, finally pulling his phone out. 

Jake snorted. "Nobody can."

Bradley checked his surroundings and turned the screen away from Jake before opening up the first image. 

Yep, it was your tattoo with your left hand and your engagement ring, fingers covering your pussy. The second one was a selfie you must have taken in the shower with soapy tits and a smug grin. And the third one was another of your tattoo with both wedding bands balancing next to it on your hip.

Next time you're home, we'll be sliding these on each other's fingers.

"So, when's the wedding date?" Jake asked casually, stretching his legs out in front of him, and jarring Bradley from his thoughts of you in bed.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "not sure yet. Still working on that."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Both of you are terrible liars. Angel keeps fibbing to me about it. It's cute that she thinks she's crafty."

Bradley scrambled quickly. "We might just go to Vegas next month. Keep it simple."

"There's no way Angel is going to agree to getting married in Vegas in that dress she bought. I'm not buying it," Jake insisted, crossing his arms over his chest while they started to taxi for takeoff.

Bradley quickly texted you back a million heart emojis and told you he loved you and the photos you sent him. Then he put his phone into airplane mode. 

"Wait, you saw the dress?" Bradley asked, even more annoyed now. "How did you see the dress?"

Jake shrugged. "She was showing Nat and Maria pictures on Halloween, and I sweet talked my way into the conversation."

Bradley was quiet for a beat. "What does it look like?"

"Like something you wouldn't wear to Las Vegas for a quickie wedding. So just tell me what you're doing."

Bradley's heart was pounding. He needed some way to throw Jake off. "We're going to Mexico right before Christmas. Eloping there."

Jake just hummed, and Bradley wasn't sure if he sold it or not. But there was no way he was going to give up the real wedding date. You would be so angry if he did.

"Well," Jake replied as the plane took to the air, headed out over the Pacific Ocean. "Looks like I'll be spending the next two weeks planning your bachelor and bachelorette parties. We can have them right when we get back."

Bradley settled back against the seat and closed his eyes, a little afraid of what he had just done. 

-------------------------

At work on Thursday afternoon, your boss informed you that there would be someone from Annapolis interviewing for a spot in your lab the following day. And all you could think about was the last time when you ended up working with Josh for several months. So Friday morning, you dressed and got yourself ready for work, but you made sure you were extra cautious when you sat down at the conference table to meet with this candidate.

"Here's her resume and work history," Bickel told you, handing you a folder. You opened it up and skimmed through the credentials for Lieutenant Catherine Coleman. She was close to your age, originally from Philadelphia, and she had a degree from the Naval Academy in electrical engineering. 

"Why does she want to come to Top Gun?" you wondered out loud. "She's in a prestigious lab at the academy."

"We're about to find out," Bickel said with a shrug, and he stood and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a very determined looking woman. She was petite with dark brown hair and striking features. The way she carried herself reminded you a bit of Phoenix, and you were instantly in awe of her. 

After introductions were made, all of her responses to your questions were quick and thorough. She was impressing you. But you still weren't sold on her. "Lieutenant, why do you want to transfer to North Island? You're in the lab I would want to work in if I were in Annapolis. And your Admirals get massive budgets to work with. Much bigger than ours."

She looked intently at you, studying you for a moment. "The lab is overcrowded, and I like to stand out. I'm also looking to settle somewhere outside of Maryland."

Well, you couldn't argue with that. You also liked to stand out, and leaving Maryland permanently was perhaps one of your greatest achievements. 

"And what would you have to offer us that we don't already have?" you asked, and Bickel leaned forward to hear her answer. 

"A fresh perspective."

-------------------------

As Bradley settled into his bunk on the USS Ronald Reagan after a day of mission prep, he got his phone ready for his allotted twenty minutes of shitty wifi access. Jake was on the bed five feet away about to do the same as it became 1900 hours ship time. They both frantically entered the internet credentials and waited for their phones to load.

"Who are you hoping wrote to you?" Bradley asked, and then he felt kind of like a dick for asking. It just seemed odd to him that Jake was single and not constantly trying to bring girls back to the bunk; that's what Bradley would have been doing before. 

Jake just snorted. "Probably your wife," he drawled. "She always writes to me when I'm away. And maybe Nat or my parents."

Bradley opened up a series of emails from you, scrolling through what you'd been doing at home. You'd sent him a photo of Tramp at the beach and another of you dressed up for a night at the Hard Deck. He saved them both to look at later.

We interviewed someone from Annapolis, and they are going to transfer out next month if they accept the position. 

He was instantly on high alert. Could be another Josh situation.

Don't worry, I'm not working too hard. Only twenty hours per day.

He sincerely hoped you were joking. There was a chance you were not.

Are you still planning on coming to our wedding? Any idea when you'll be back?

He would be flying this mission tomorrow afternoon. It was just him and Jake. They kept changing the parameters, eliminating team members, making it more specialized. Bradley was a little alarmed that they weren't going to be provided with more firepower and backup support, but what did he know? He was only a Lieutenant Commander in a room full of Admirals. 

So he replied to your emails, promising to call you when he could, and sparing you the details of the mission. And then he and Jake both groaned at the same time when the internet cut out. 

"Your wife asked me what she should get you as a wedding gift," Jake drawled as he turned his phone off. 

Was Bradley supposed to get you something? He hadn't even thought about it. He had quite a credit card bill to pay off at the moment, between the honeymoon and all the lingerie you charged to his credit card. "What did you tell her?"

Jake tucked his hands behind his head and stared at the low ceiling. "I told her all men want the same things in life, so she should make you a nice dinner and give you a blowjob. You're welcome."

"That's like a typical Tuesday for me," Bradley replied with a grin. "And Thursday. And Sunday."

"Must be nice," Jake said, his voice a little tense. "Someone who loves you that much and gives you head for no reason? Damn, Bradshaw."

Bradley just closed his eyes and thought about you. "Living the dream. Wait, are you jealous?"

"Of you and Angel? Nah. Probably just need to get laid."

"Just say the word and I'll go to the lounge for a while," Bradley replied. "I don't mind."

"Maybe tomorrow," Jake drawled without enthusiasm.

"Tomorrow's the mission," Bradley replied. 

"Well then maybe a different day."

Bradley just grunted in acknowledgement.

---------------------------

And he's off! Next up is his mission! And I hope he gets back in time! Also, peep Cat Coleman....she's going to be important....

PART 16

@mak-32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[chronicangel]

Spooky Anecdotes to Share at Nighttime

Words: 8179 Date posted: October 25, 2024 Summary:

The twins haven't been back to Gravity Falls in over five years, and Candy, Grenda, Pacifica, Wendy, and Soos realize that they haven't caught them up on everything they've missed. Cue an anthology of spooky stories that may or may not have happened! (And that may or may not be inspired by something...)

I wrote this as part of a larger project I'll be posting next summer, but I also wrote it as part of the Gravity Falls Halloween Zine 2024! @howtokillavampire put this event together and I am thrilled to be able to participate. Tumblr doesn't have an inbuilt dividing line function, so I used these star dividers by @cafekitsune. And if you see this thing again on AO3 next year and recognize it, no you didn't!

“Well, dudes, the power is like, totally shot,” Soos says as he re-enters the living room, earning groans from everyone gathered.

“But we’ve been waiting for this Ducktective reboot for years!”

“You have,” Dipper says. “I thought that the original ending was satisfying enough.”

Everyone in the room glares at him, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Look dawg, I get it, but with this crazy storm, the power is probably gonna be out for the rest of the night,” Soos says, punctuated by a roll of well-timed thunder.

“Curse you, weather!” Mabel yells dramatically, shaking her fist toward the ceiling. The weather only responds by flashing with lightning back, and she pouts. “Well, we’re all here. What are we going to do now?”

And indeed, they are all here. At some point between their last visit to the Falls and this summer, the long rust-colored couch had been dragged into the living room out of Ford’s old bedroom, and Mabel, Candy, Grenda, Pacifica, and Wendy are all sitting on it, with Wendy’s long legs stretched out on the chaise in front of her. Grunkle Stan’s striped yellow recliner had been stuffed into the corner, and he sits in it in his usual boxers and wife beater, still clicking the remote at the TV like he can force it to come on with no power if he tries hard enough.

The only person who hadn’t crammed into the living room for the pilot of the new Ducktective show was Ford. He hadn’t exactly been a part of their Ducktective watch parties that first summer, what with the finale airing only a few days after his arrival from his 30-year multidimensional journey and his insistence that it was a children’s show, and telling him that Pacifica had never seen the original either didn’t tempt him. With the power being shut off, Dipper wonders what he must be doing in the basement.

“Hey, I think this might be the first time that we’ve all been in one place since you two got here for the summer,” Wendy points out. Dipper thinks back to their welcome back party, but yeah, now that he thinks about it, Pacifica had only gotten there after Candy and Grenda had left.

“Y’know, this would be a good opportunity to catch up,” Candy says, tilting her head in consideration in a way that leans it against Mabel’s shoulder. “We haven’t seen you in over five years. There are so many stories to tell!”

“Oh! Let me go first!” Grenda yells, and it’s loud enough that even Grunkle Stan winces from halfway across the room. “This actually happened right after you guys left…”

Grenda doesn’t normally like flying. She and her parents have flown to visit her grandparents in Pennsyltucky for Christmas every year longer than she can remember and she’s always hated it. Her ears always feel like they’re going to explode, and it’s miserable having to sit still for so long—and that’s not even six hours! She’s stuck on this plane for ten until they touch ground in Amsterdam, and then there’s another flight after that to get to Austria.

But maybe part of that hatred has been rooted in the fact that her grandparents’ house is the most boring place on earth, filled with lace doilies and tea towels and those weird little porcelain cats that all old ladies seem to have for some reason. She’s not even allowed to wear her shoes in the house! And half of the time her grandfather slips into German without realizing it, which she guesses is actually a good thing, since it means she speaks enough German to get through dating an Austrian prince okay.

And that’s the critical difference between flying to see her grandparents and this flight, she thinks. With her boyfriend waiting on the other end of the flight for her in a fancy foreign country, her usual nerves are by-and-large replaced with excitement—which doesn’t make it any easier to stay still for a long flight, but at least makes the horrible pressure in her ears feel worth it. She’s going to spend a whole week with Marius in his palace in Austria, and maybe she’ll even get to kiss him on the mouth!

She keeps herself distracted for now with one of her mom’s age-inappropriate romance novels that she’d managed to sneak into her carry-on bag before they left for the airport. Since the sleepover where she read the first Wolfman Bare Chest novel, she’s been hooked.

Elijah stared at me with cold eyes, and I stared back. He wasn’t going to get me to bend this time.

“This is not what we agreed to,” he said firmly. I pursed my lips rather than replying, because I knew that if I tried to say anything then my voice would come out all shaky and then I would cave. I was so tired of caving.

He seemed to realize that I wasn’t going to budge, and I watched as several emotions passed over his face. Anger. Guilt. Fear. I had never seen him look so afraid before, and I wondered what he was afraid of. Me? But why would he be afraid of me? Hadn’t he realized by now that I was just Becca, and I wasn’t going to hurt him? That I couldn’t hurt him, even if I wanted to?

Admittedly, Grenda didn’t care for the switch to Becca’s perspective in the fifth book, and she has mixed feelings about Elijah as a love interest. Where Gerard was a creature of passion, Elijah is a cold, calculating predator of a man, and sometimes it’s impossible to tell whether he really likes Becca at all. But isn’t that so compelling?

She can’t wait to talk to Candy and Mabel in the group chat about the latest development in the series when she’s back on the ground.

Her cheeks flush as the scene starts to get steamy, but before she can get very far, a flight attendant pushing a cart leans over her with a too-big smile through nude lipstick and bright white teeth. “Hello, Miss Grendinator,” she says, with the sort of neutral accent that only journalists and flight attendants have. “Have you taken a look at the dinner menu? We’ll be doing dinner service soon.”

After Grenda places her order, she glances out the window. She hasn’t been paying it much mind because she’s been so absorbed in her book, but the sky really is beautiful from up here. It had been storming on the ground when they took off, but now that they’re above the clouds, you couldn’t possibly tell. It’s crazy how the stars still look so far away—she doesn’t know how big a lightyear is, but it must be more than 20,000 feet.

Wait…

She squints. It’s hard to see in the dark, but she swears there’s something on the wing, a barely moving shape almost like an especially short and hunched over man. She leans so close to the window that her forehead presses against the cold glass, and yes, there is definitely something out there!

It looks like a man in a really cheap costume from the Summerween Superstore. Its body is covered with the sort of flat, lumpy texture you’d expect to see on a coat for babies, like wool that was exposed to too much heat or maybe just some synthetic fabric that was meant to look like wool. Its face is much like a man’s face where all of the features have been made huge and exaggerated, with a nose that must take up at least half of its face and almost clownish lips. And it looks like it’s… tampering with the wing? She doesn’t know enough about planes to know what exactly it’s doing, but she’s sure it’s not supposed to be doing it!

“Here you go, Miss Grendinator,” says the same flight attendant, offering her a tray with her meal on it. It’s some sort of chicken dish with mixed veggies, and they don’t have Pitt Cola on this flight, so she’d just gotten water to drink.

“There’s something on the wing,” she blurts. The attendant’s eyebrows knit together and her smile grows a little tighter.

After a second of just staring at her, the attendant bends over to look out the window. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see anything,” she says, with that sort of customer service voice that makes it sound like she really does think it’s her fault and she really is sorry for it. Grenda whips her head to look out the window.

Sure enough, whatever was there before is gone. All that’s outside now is clear skies and twinkling stars and the blinking light at the tip of the wing. Could she have imagined it? Maybe she’s been accused of having an overactive imagination in the past, but that’s usually daydreaming about cute boys, not creepy monsters!

“We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. I’d recommend eating your dinner and trying to get some rest,” the flight attendant offers with an almost pitying expression, and Grenda presses her mouth into a flat line. She is not crazy. There was something out there! But it’s clear from her face that this flight attendant isn’t going to believe her.

She glares down at her tray the entire time that she’s eating, and it doesn’t take very long to shovel down the dinner, which is bland and not especially filling. She’s heard jokes about airplane food, but jeez! Haven’t they ever heard of salt and pepper before?

She glances at her book. Is it really possible that she was so caught up in reading that her imagination ran wild and just made up some weird creature on the wing of the plane? That’s so unlike her, though…

When she looks out the window again, she almost jumps out of her skin to see that not only is the creature back, but its face is pressed right up against the window like hers had been when she first saw it.

So it’s gaslighting her, huh? It’s just like Elijah! For just a moment, she contemplates if this thing is a viable romantic prospect, but it’s ugly and she has a boyfriend anyway, so there’s only one remaining solution: She has to fight it.

She glances around the rest of the plane. Most of the other passengers are settling into their seats to sleep, and those who aren’t are distracted with their own books and in-flight entertainment. There aren’t any flight attendants in sight.

Perfect.

As an unaccompanied minor, she has the entire row of seats at the very back of the plane to herself on an otherwise packed international flight, so she doesn’t have to interact with any other passengers to stand up. There’s nothing between her and the wing, and she gets onto it without any complication. The wind makes the loose strands of hair from her ponytail blow into her face. “Hey! You!”

The creature turns to stare at her, with its wide yet drooping eyes. There’s an almost sad quality to its face, and she thinks again of Elijah, but she shakes those thoughts away as she rushes at it with a fist drawn. Her punch lands in its gut, and it feels like punching a stuffed animal. The weirdest part is that the creature doesn’t even make a sound, like it was written into a TV script and not given any lines of dialogue so that the producers didn’t have to pay it as much… or something.

The creature is as good at wrestling as any monster in Gravity Falls, although she’s not currently in Gravity Falls and that’s not even where her flight left from. Actually, where did this thing come from? She’s heard people say Keep Portland Weird, but she didn’t think Portland’s weird was quite the same as Gravity Falls’ weird, and even if it was, an airport is barely even a part of a city, if you think about it. The creature uses her distraction to its advantage to land a punch on her face, and she yells.

“Do not bruise my face! This is my boy kissing face!” She yells, and she lugs the creature over her head with both arms, standing on the edge of the plane and staring down at the clouds below. How far must they be from the ground? Well, not her problem!

She throws the creature off the wing and marches back onto the plane victoriously, and all of the other passengers clap and cheer for her.

“And yeah, I pretty much saved the day. I mean, who knows what that thing would have done if I didn’t take it out?” Grenda says with a self-satisfied little smile, arms crossed over her chest and nodding a bit.

“Um, how did you get onto the wing of the plane? You sort of brushed over that part,” Candy says.

“I don’t really remember,” Grenda rushes to answer.

“Also, if you were 20,000 feet off the ground, I’m not sure you would have been able to stay conscious outside of the pressurized cabin of a plane…” Candy adds, and Grenda glares at her.

“Why are you casting doubt on my super cool and true story?”

“Well,” Wendy cuts in, and everyone turns their heads to stare at her. “If you want to hear a super cool and true story, I’ve got one. This happened a few years ago, in my last summer in Gravity Falls before I moved…”

People have this misconception about Wendy. They think that she’s lazy. They think that she’s not willing to work hard. The truth is that Wendy just cares a lot about her time and what she does with it, and so she doesn’t like to do things that she doesn’t want to do. That’s normal, isn’t it? What eighteen-year-old girl doesn’t refuse to do the things that she doesn’t want to do? But when something aligns with her interests, she doesn’t care how hard it is. How else would she have gotten through all that monster hunting with Dipper and Mabel?

This is not one of those instances.

For the most part, her dad doesn’t bug her about participating in the whole family logging business so long as she’s still doing something productive with her time. That’s why she likes working summers at the Mystery Shack so much—it looks like she’s being productive because she’s technically at a job, but she very rarely actually has to do anything.

But the Mystery Shack is closed for the week because Soos and Melody are out of town visiting Melody’s family. She was going to lie about it and spend the week crashing on Tambry’s couch, but Gideon stopped by the Shack to see if the twins are visiting this summer and then his dad was at Skull Fracture with her dad, and now she’s here. She seriously hates that kid.

At least her dad doesn’t actually have her chopping down trees or anything. It’s not that she can’t chop them down, it’s just that she hates how sweaty she gets and her brothers always make fun of how many pieces she has to chop the trees into to lug them back to the house by herself as if she can’t still beat up every single one of them. Seriously, though, she needs to buff up… For now, she’s marking the trees that her dad and brothers are going to come out and chop down tomorrow with spray paint.

She sprays a white X and a circle on another tree and grumbles to herself, “The next time I see that kid, I’m gonna punch him in the head.”

Her eyes catch on a flash of white on a nearby tree and she raises an eyebrow for a second because it’s not like her to walk in circles, but then she realizes it’s not spray paint, it’s a piece of paper.

The note looks like it was written against the bark of a tree, with the lines all jagged and uneven in black pen. “DON’T LOOK… OR IT TAKES YOU.” It? There’s all sorts of weird monsters and beasties in Gravity Falls, and sure, she never looked in Dipper’s journal all that much, but she’s pretty sure she’s never heard of one that takes you anywhere.

She rolls her eyes. “Robbie, this is lame even for you,” she says, crumpling the note up and dropping it on the ground. She doesn’t normally care for litter, but even if the paper was a bad prank attempt by her friend, something about it gives her bad vibes. She looks around. “Are you hiding behind one of these trees? C’mon, dude.”

She tucks the spray paint into the holster at her hip and walks deeper into the forest. It’s not intimidating because Wendy isn’t easily scared and she’s spent her whole life in these woods.

It doesn’t feel like very long has passed at all before it starts to get dark, and that’s weird, isn’t it, because it was, like, the middle of the afternoon just a few minutes ago, she’s pretty sure.

“Okay, fine, whatever dude,” she announces out loud, rolling her eyes again. “It’s getting dark out. I’m going home. Get lost in the woods for all I care.” One night in the woods won’t hurt Robbie, especially not when he’s being a weird jerk.

When she turns around, she almost runs face first into a building that she knows wasn’t there a minute ago, with another page right in front of her face. She takes a step back to squint at it. This one has a crude sketch of a coniferous tree, with a man nearly as tall as it next to it, that says “FOLLOWS” to the side. Okay, yep, this is definitely some sort of paranormal junk. She did not sign up for this today.

She leaves the page right where it is and turns around to walk away, and that’s when she notices that she’s not in Gravity Falls’ forest at all anymore. She knows that forest like the back of her hand, she was literally born and raised there, and this is completely different. Except for a small clearing of birch trees that Dad always warned her to stay out of, Gravity Falls is all redwoods, firs, and hemlocks. The only Pines in Gravity Falls are Stan and his family, and yet that’s what surrounds her as far as the eye can see.

The smart thing to do would be to buckle down in this building and wait for this… whatever is happening to pass. That’s what got her through Weirdmageddon, and that’s what’s gotten her through a million other weird things in her life. Wendy Corduroy knows when to walk away, but she also knows when to refuse to budge.

But something about this whole situation just has her totally off-kilter. It’s like, this is the place that she should know better than anyone else, and now it’s just completely wrong.

So she doesn’t just walk away from the building, she runs. She springs forward and launches herself into the comforting cover of the trees and she keeps going. She goes North toward where the Corduroy cabin should be, and she runs until she sees another building.

The building is not her house. It’s some rundown brick building unlike anything in Gravity Falls, the sort of place that she and her friends would have broken into to party like wild animals a couple of years ago. There’s another note.

“CAN’T RUN.” It feels like it’s mocking her, and she feels an irrational surge of irritation at Robbie. She knows that this isn’t just some prank by her jerky friend at this point, but without anyone else to get annoyed at, he’s the temporary victim of her ire.

“Alright, fine!” She yells at nothing, turning around to face the forest. She glares at the trees that are wrong and the dark that’s too early, and she grabs the hand ax that she keeps on her at all times to hold it out threateningly in the air. “Bro, I didn’t even want to be out here, so I am so not in the mood for supernatural kidnapping! Whatever you are, just come get me already!”

For a long minute, there’s nothing. The forest is completely silent, and that’s another eerie difference from Gravity Falls, where it seems like there’s always some critter making itself known. Just as she’s about to accept that there isn’t anything person-shaped to blame for this situation and she’ll have to start problem-solving Dipper style, which mostly involves a lot of anxiety and sweating, something person-shaped emerges from the forest. Well, she’s using the term person-shaped a little loosely there. The man—it looks more like a man than anything else—is at least eight feet tall, with arms down to his knees and a completely white face. Or, well, lack thereof.

“Ugh, are you kidding me? You’re just some sort of… Skinny… Guy.” She groans. What a waste of time.

She knows too much about the supernatural to waste time and give Skinny Guy the opportunity to do something creepy, especially with all those weird notes around. Ax still in hand, she lunges at him, swinging the ax down as hard as she can at his chest, which is about as high as she can really reach on him. With a wet noise that might make someone with less resolve wince, he collapses to the ground, and admittedly she might just be taking out frustration as she double- and then triple-taps him, just to make sure.

Chest heaving, she straightens up and looks around. She doesn’t know what was up with those notes, but whatever the problem was, she’s clearly solved it by taking this guy out, because the sight that greets her is Gravity Falls’ familiar redwood forest and the sun just starting to touch the tops of the trees as it starts to set. When she looks back at the ground, the body is gone, and that gives her bad vibes but she’s not about to go looking for it. Content that her supernatural adventure is done with, she pulls the spray paint back out to get back to work.

“Woah, Wendy! You totally took out that monster!” Mabel says, with practical stars in her eyes. Dipper got over his crush on Wendy a long time ago (for real this time), but even he has to admit that she’s still the coolest person he knows.

“You killed a man,” Candy says, though not with quite as much horror as the statement probably warrants. Wendy just shrugs like that idea doesn’t really bother her, which it probably doesn’t.

“Is it true that there aren’t any pine trees in Gravity Falls?” He asks.

“Just you, man,” she laughs, reaching out with a hand to ruffle his hair through his hat (which used to be her hat, but they still haven’t switched back and he’s starting to think they’re never going to).

“You guys are only telling stories that happened, like, forever ago,” Pacifica cuts in, and Dipper tilts his head curiously at her. The valley girl inflection (it’s not really an accent) that she had played up when they first met only really comes out when she’s annoyed now, and he can’t see any reason old stories should bother her so much. “I have a story, and this, like, just happened.”

The transition to public school had not been especially easy for Pacifica. Part of that was just how unfair it felt. Her parents were by no means poor, and they almost certainly could have afforded to keep paying for her private tutors. That would involve sacrificing any of their own comforts, though, and Pacifica had long realized by the time that they put her in public school that the things she wanted and enjoyed would always be first on the chopping block.

Whatever. She had determined quickly that she would just have to become the queen of Gravity Falls High School the way she’d become the queen everywhere else she’d spent any significant amount of time. Of course, that was easier said than done.

When Pacifica had become the queen bee of Gravity Falls’ teenage population years ago, most of that was because of her parents’ money. People want to be around you when you’re rich, and it doesn’t matter how awful your personality is as long as you have enough money. In fact, her parents had led her to believe that people would only be more inclined to follow you if you treated them poorly because then they would feel like they needed your validation. That seemed to be her father’s strategy, anyway, and she could say from personal experience that it was definitely working for him.

And it wasn’t like her parents didn’t have any money anymore. For all intents and purposes, they were still probably the richest people in Gravity Falls save for maybe Old Man McGucket. But for the first time in her life, that money and her family name had more negative connotations than positive ones. People remembered how her dad had tried to side with Bill during Weirdmageddon, and they didn’t care for it.

Plus, by high school, most of the social cliques that people were going to find a place in had already been formed, and she was on the outside of all of them. It was surreal, in a lot of ways. Here were people that she had known all her life, and it turned out that she didn’t really know anything about them.

So that sets the scene for our story. By senior year, the only other students who talk to Pacifica are Candy and Grenda, and even they barely talk to her. It’s not like she can blame them. Before Dipper and Mabel came along, she wasn’t exactly the nicest to them, and she hasn’t made that much effort to make it up to them since—not nearly as much effort as she should.

It’s not a big deal. She’ll be graduating soon and then she’s out of here—out of public school and probably out of Gravity Falls. It’s not like she has many other options.

That’s why it’s so weird when she’s practically cornered in the hallway by some boy whose name she doesn’t even know. “Pacifica, would you like to go to prom with me?” He asks, and she looks him up and down. He’s not especially tall, or at least not especially tall compared to her. He has maybe an inch on her. His brown hair and brown eyes are extremely plain, but his face isn’t bad. He’s cute, she guesses.

Still. “No.”

“No? Well, why not?” He asks, like the fact that she’s said no is the most confounding thing in the world. She rolls her eyes.

“You don’t even know me. I mean, seriously, why do you want me to go to prom with you? Because you couldn’t find anybody else who was willing to?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know, if you weren’t such a bitch, people would probably like you more,” he says, and she bristles. “I’m asking you because I think you’re interesting. Most of the girls at our school are fake-nice. You’re not. Is that a crime?”

The retort that he’s not interesting enough himself to go out with her dies in her mouth behind pursed lips as she narrows her eyes at him. Really, Pacifica’s not even that interested in the prom. Years ago, it felt like something to look forward to, but now it just seems like a waste of time.

But does she really want her entire high school experience to boil down to people ignoring her and ignoring people back? This is not how she planned for this to go. Plus, the guy isn’t terrible to look at. He’s definitely cute enough to be seen in public with, with curly hair that definitely needs to be brushed and long eyelashes.

“Ugh, fine.”

The guy lights up and she rolls her eyes again. Geez, what a dork. If she’s smiling a little bit when she walks away, it’s out of amusement at how ridiculous he is, that’s all.

When she tells her mom about it, Prscilla is less thrilled. “What? You are not going to prom with some peasant.”

Pacifica rolls her eyes. “Mom, nobody says ‘peasant’ anymore, you sound ridiculous. Plus, it’s not that big a deal. It’s not like I’m dating him or whatever, we’re just going to prom together. You should be excited for me.”

“Excited? Excited that my daughter is throwing her life away to be seen with some gold digger? It’s embarrassing enough that you work at that horrid diner!”

“I highly doubt that he’s a gold digger,” she says, rolling her eyes again. Sometimes when she talks to her mom she worries she’s going to get dizzy. “Most of the people in Gravity Falls don’t want anything to do with us or our money. It’s a nice thing that this boy is willing to be seen in public with me after everything.”

“Oh, so now it’s your father’s fault?” Priscilla says sharply, and Pacifica would point out that she didn’t mention her father if she thought that would work. Her mother loves little more than to talk trash about her husband and pretend that it was Pacifica. “You are not going to prom with that boy. I forbid it.”

Pacifica just stares at her for a second. “You forbid it?” She asks, incredulous. “What are you going to do, lock me in my room?”

“Maybe I will!”

Ice runs in Pacifica’s veins. Her parents rarely threaten her anymore—mostly because it doesn’t work—but this is exactly the sort of thing that she knows Mom would do because she’d done it a million times during Pacifica’s childhood. It almost activates a sense of fight or flight, and she can’t entirely stop herself from talking back.

“I wouldn’t even be stuck going to the prom with some third rate loser if you and Dad actually cared enough to keep me out of public school in the first place! But no, maintaining his platinum membership at a country club he only plays golf at once a year was more important than my education. I’ve put up with four years of public school, and if I want to have a fun time at prom with a boy who asked, I’m going to go! And if you want to lock me in my room, just try it and see what happens.”

She and her mother stay glaring at each other for a minute before she storms off and up the stairs to her bedroom. She needs to get ready, anyway. She hadn’t bought a dress because she wasn’t planning on going, which means she’s going to have to recycle an old gown from one of the lavish parties her parents forced her to go to—and they do that much less these days.

The dress that she chooses is extremely simple—pale lavender fabric that hugs her body without any of the dramatic embroidery or expensive fabric that she would normally wear. She puts on simple makeup to go with it, and overall, it’s a softer, cleaner look than she usually goes for.

“Oh, I should have known that it would look cheap,” her mother moans from the doorway with a glass of wine in hand, and Pacifica rolls her eyes as she turns to face her. Seriously, there’s no way she won’t get dizzy after enough of this. “Don’t go. Just stay in with me.”

“Pass,” Pacifica says immediately. If the prom had sounded like a potential nightmare, spending the whole night with her mother after she’s already started drinking (well, that’s the most redundant thing she’s ever said) is even worse. “Mom, can’t you just tell me that I look nice and to have a good time?”

Her mother just stares at her, her lips pressed into a thin line, until Pacifica’s phone chimes with a notification. “He’s here,” she announces. “I’m going now.”

She brushes past her mother in the doorway, and she thinks the only reason Priscilla doesn’t spill her wine on her dress on purpose is because it’s white wine.

It turns out that Pacifica’s date is actually a really nice guy. He makes her laugh on the whole drive to the school and he doesn’t throw a fit when she demands to lead when they dance together. The best part is that when she makes snarky comments at him, he’s always locked and loaded with a quick reply. He reminds her of someone, and that thought makes her cheeks flush and she locks it away before anyone who might be listening to this story later can linger on it and draw conclusions.

She wonders what Dipper and Mabel must be doing at their own prom, or if it’s even happened yet. She thinks about texting them, but she can’t think of a justification for why she’d ask. Plus, her date is pulling her over to a table and sitting her down, and it seems rude to text another guy even if it is so not like that. “Look,” he says, holding out one of the ballots to vote for prom king and queen to her. She stares.

At the bottom of the list are their names, and she doesn’t understand how that’s possible. Don’t you have to, like, sign up for that kind of thing? She asks him such out loud, and he laughs. “I signed us up when I asked you. I figured that Pacifica Northwest of all people would want the opportunity to be prom queen.”

Well… does she? Five years ago it would have seemed like only the most natural thing in the world that she would be prom queen. She wouldn’t even have questioned it. But now? Pacifica takes pride in a lot of things. She’s a waitress at Greasy’s even though it infuriates her parents. She’s friends with Dipper and Mabel Pines. She tries as hard as she can to be a good person, even though it’s the hardest thing she’s ever done and it just keeps being hard. Does being prom queen measure up to any of that?

It turns out that the answer is yes, because she gets voted prom queen and it feels like the most magical thing in the world. It feels like she’s floating as she climbs up onto the stage, and as she stares out at the sea of students she thought hated her and has perhaps incorrectly hated back, clapping and cheering for her, for a moment all of this feels worth it. It feels like this is what all of that work she was doing was meant to culminate in. Is this what Mabel gets out of being nice to people all of the time? It’s like a special kind of high.

The moment passes as something heavy and wet hits the top of her head all at once, and a shudder rips through her entire body. She looks down to see red seeping into her dress, slicking her skin, sticking in her hair. It’s going to take forever to wash all of this out. Then it hits her—that horrible metallic smell. Pig’s blood.

Pacifica’s story is cut off with a petrified squeal from Waddles, who dives as though to hide under the couch except that he’s too huge to fit much more than his snout under it. “Oh, Pacifica, that’s awful! Who would want to dump pig’s blood all over you?” Mabel says, holding a hand over her mouth and looking more than a little queasy.

“But Pacifica,” Candy says before she can answer. “You didn’t win prom queen.”

“Well that’s what it felt like,” Pacifica snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I thought that you were going to private school on a scholarship,” Dipper says, only to shrink in on himself a little when Pacifica shoots him a withering glare. He hates being on the receiving end of those things.

“The Northwest Scholarship for Northwests to Northwest Private School? Dipper, I know you’re smarter than that. It was just my parents’ obnoxious way of saying that they were paying for private tutors. They stopped when they decided they didn’t like me anymore.”

“Aww, it’s a good thing that we rescued you!” Mabel says, leaning over to wrap her arms around Pacifica.

“Mabel, you didn’t have anything to do with that,” she says, but she doesn’t try to get out of the hug.

“But I did!” Soos cuts in, and he reaches up with a hand as though to ruffle Pacifica’s hair before she shoots him a withering glare and he just brings his hand back to himself. “Is it my turn now? I have a super cool story, too.”

When Soos and Melody got engaged, she had sat him down and gently told him that she thought they should move out of the Mystery Shack. “Stan and Ford are going to be done sailing all around the world eventually, and they’re probably going to want to retire in the home that they built,” she says, and as much as this makes sense to Soos, he still doesn’t like the thought of leaving the home portion of the Mystery Shack empty.

“I don’t know… Don’t you think a home needs, like, people in it?” He says, gesturing at the empty house around them.

“Soos, we’re still going to be here every day, and Stan and Ford are still going to stop by sometimes. But once we’re married and having kids, do you really want them to grow up in a tourist trap?”

Really, that idea doesn’t sound so bad to Soos. He can only imagine how much cooler his childhood would have been if he had grown up in a place like the Mystery Shack, hearing stories from Mr. Pines about all sorts of made up spookums. Melody must see this on his face, because she adds after a second, “Abuelita is getting pretty old, too. She’ll need someone to take care of her, and you know as well as I do what she thinks about the Shack.”

He thinks about how sad Abuelita had seemed when he told her that he was going to be moving out to take on maintenance of the Mystery Shack full-time. She had been proud, of course, that Soos was achieving his dreams, but he’d lived with her his whole life and they both expected he’d be with her until she died. Plus, she really does hate this place.

“Okay…” He agrees hesitantly, already wondering if he can push off the whole moving thing at least until Dipper and Mabel are 18 and they can move into the Shack. What can he say? A home just needs people in it or it turns back into being just a house. And the Mystery Shack will always be more than just a house to Soos.

If there’s anything Soos loves about Melody (and, well, there a thousand things he loves about Melody, actually), it’s that she is not pushy.

They both seemingly forget about the whole moving thing entirely for a week, until Soos gets a letter informing him that he’s won a mansion. Did he enter a competition to win a mansion? That seems like the sort of thing that he would have remembered doing.

“Hey Melody, take a look at this,” he says, holding the letter out to her. If he entered a competition to win a mansion and forgot about it, he’s sure Melody will remember. She’s way better at remembering stuff than he is!

“Huh. It’s probably just some scam letter. I mean, I’m pretty sure the only mansion in Gravity Falls is McGucket’s Hootenanny Hutt, and he’s not looking to sell it last I checked.” Soos is sure there are other mansions in Gravity Falls, because he’s pretty sure the Northwests still have one somewhere and he sees Pacifica at the diner all of the time. She sees his hesitation and sighs. “You wanna check it out, huh?”

“Maybe this could be exactly the opportunity we were looking for. We’d have room for Abuelita in a mansion. And for seven kids.” Of course, the number of children they want to have is still something they debate back and forth, but if they had a mansion, he thinks it’d only be natural to try to fill it, right?

Melody looks at him skeptically for another minute and then finally says, “Okay. We can drive up there and check it out after we close up for the day, alright?” He grins and leans down to press a kiss against the top of her head. He seriously has the best fiancée in the entire world.

After Soos’ last tour of the day, he looks at his phone and sees that Melody has texted him to let him know that she’s heading to the address in the letter ahead of him and he should meet her there when he’s free. Somehow, it doesn’t occur to Soos that they only have one car.

His old pickup truck has been threatening to die for years, and he should take it as a sign when the engine sputters and kicks off at the big, creepy gates to the big, creepy mansion. That’s not really Soos’ vibe, though. His vibe is more go with the flow than that, and he figures he’s already come this far, so he just walks up the rest of the hill with a flashlight in hand, because spooky stories are always better with a flashlight.

The mansion doesn’t bear no resemblance to McGucket’s Hootenanny Hutt, formerly the Northwest Manor. It’s tall and imposing, with a million windows and pointy bits on the roof for seemingly no reason. The path to this mansion is even creepier, though, with trees that look totally dead and… dude, are those actual graves?

“Melody?” He finally calls out, looking around for any sign of his fiancée. There’s not exactly an abundance of places to hide outside, unless she’s behind one of those spooky-looking trees. He checks behind the spooky-looking trees, just in case, but sure enough, she’s not there. He guesses she must have gone into the mansion without him and shrugs. Well, if she got inside then they probably do have some legitimate claim to the place, right?

The interior of the mansion is just as spooky as the exterior. There’s dust and cobwebs everywhere, stairs to a small second story landing, and three doors leading to other areas of the mansion, but when he tries them, all three are locked. As he heads back down the stairs from the second floor of the room, he hears a weird noise, and he stops mid-step to listen closer.

That’s when he sees some sort of ghost or something.

It doesn’t even seem to notice him, drifting by with a key in its hand that it conveniently drops before disappearing through one of the locked sets of doors. In an incredible bout of luck, Soos happens to unlock the correct doors on the first try—the ones on the first floor.

He doesn’t have much time to examine the second room of the mansion before another ghost (or maybe the same ghost, but like, it came downstairs?) lunges at him. Oh man, he should have paid more attention when Dipper was telling him about that party at the Northwests’!

There’s a horrible, haunting sort of cackling noise echoing through the halls of the mansion, and then a sound like Abuelita vacuuming the walls. Suddenly the ghost is gone, and a familiar face stands in front of Soos instead.

“Old Man McGucket? What are you doing here?”

“I was up in my mansion when I heard what’n sounded like some sort of undead hootenanny comin’ from down over yonder! Fortunately, I just finished my latest invention: the Ghostsucker 3001! I figured this would be the best time to test it out, so I snuck into this here mansion and sure enough it was just chock fulla ghosts. I’ve been suckin’ ‘em up fer hours.”

“Woah, dude, that sounds sick,” Soos says, taking a step closer to squint at McGucket’s machine, which looks a lot like the Neutron Neutralizers from Phantom Bust-ifiers.

“Eh… would you… like to join me?” He asks, with a hopeful tinge to his voice. “Wouldn’t ya know it, I just so happen to have a second one of these things.” It seems like he pulls the second Ghostsucker 3001 out of thin air as he holds it out to Soos, who looks up at him with a grin and swings the machine onto his back.

This part of the story is kind of boring, but basically, he and McGucket go through the rest of the mansion and, like, take out all of the ghosts, including the big bad ghost at the end of the mansion who did, like, some kind of magic thing? Honestly, he doesn’t remember that part very well. There was this wicked ghost baby, though.

For a second, Dipper holds his breath like he thinks there’s going to be more to the story, but Soos just crosses his arms and nods like Grenda had after her story. “Well, what happened to Melody?” Mabel eventually asks.

“And why did McGucket have a second Ghostucker 3001 just lying around?” Dipper adds.

“What happened to the mansion?” Candy tacks on.

“Oh, dude, those are like, really good questions,” Soos says, laughing. “I guess I should have thought of that.”

“This is ridiculous!” Candy says, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “So Soos is a Phantom Bust-ifier, Pacifica is a prom queen, Wendy is an unrepentant killer, and Grenda is completely unaffected by altitude?”

“Well, yeah, that about sums it up,” Mabel says.

“That’s it. It is Candy’s turn to tell a story,” Candy says, with a wicked sort of grin that makes Dipper nervous.

He was right to be nervous. The story that Candy tells is so dark, so grotesque, so horrifying that he doesn’t think he’ll ever completely be able to stop thinking about it. Waddles runs away to another room squealing even higher than he had after Pacifica’s story, Soos and Grenda huddle together in fear, Pacifica looks like she’s going to be sick, and Mabel retreats to Sweatertown. Even Grunkle Stan’s snoring from his recliner stops as he wakes up just to stare at Candy. The only person who seems totally unbothered is Wendy, but Dipper can’t imagine the sorts of circumstances that would really freak Wendy out.

“Did that really happen?” He asks, even though he’s not totally sure that he wants to hear the answer. What if it did?

“Well, no,” she answers. “But neither did anyone else’s!”

There’s a creak of the floorboards at the entrance to the room and everyone screams. Dipper is the first to spring to his feet and turn toward the door, only to see Grunkle Ford standing there.

For a second, he stares at all of them like they’re insane. Then, cracking open the can of Pitt Cola he must have come upstairs for, he asks, “Why are all of you sitting around in the dark? That’s very bad for your eyes, you know.”

Dipper is also the first one who manages to find his voice to answer, and he’s proud of himself for how far he’s come from the anxious preteen he was that first summer. “The power is out. You didn’t notice?”

“Ah, of course,” Ford says, like he’s drawn a conclusion that no one else has reached yet, which he does a lot. “I had a back-up generator set up for the lab in the basement after my first year in Gravity Falls. This town gets a lot of geomagnetic storms! Very interesting… I suppose I spent so much time down there that I forgot to install one upstairs. Maybe while we’re docked for the summer I can start working on that…”

Everyone looks at each other for a moment, and then Stan and Mabel grin at each other. “Sixer, we’re crashin’ your lab,” Stan says, and it’s clear from his tone that there’s no room for argument—not that Ford actually tries to argue. Mabel and Stan pick up the TV to lug it into the basement while the rest of them follow, the girls who haven’t already been to the basement lab peering around curiously.

It turns out that the premier of the new Ducketective series isn’t even playing tonight—they’re playing a marathon of all of the old series first, and they’ve only missed the first couple of episodes. They fill in Pacifica and Ford and end up staying up all night watching, and Ford is forced to admit that he was wrong and the show is amazing.

FUPNR'W UMWMC ZUU DHS UVIMC WI KXVPWWM.

[eliotlime]

End of October Update

There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.

Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....

On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍

-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut

🔐Abacelsus Zine

I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol

As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.

I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.

I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)

🥤 Strawpage & General Socials

The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.

Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.

This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.

Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.

The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky

I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.

Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..

☹ School

Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.

Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL

I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha

🎁 Merch

I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.

Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.

➰Closing Thoughts

All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!

Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha

No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.

Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.

If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: eliotlime@gmail.com

XOXO, Stay weird!

-Eliot :)

[nothomegal]

“The little owl family” (Part 3)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: typical mentions of murder, Mikey being obsessive and violent.

Word Count: 4k. (Sorry for so much text- )

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Both siblings have returned home after making a visit to the plice station. (Y/N) was a bit moody but mostly relieved that the police finally listened. They already visited the station, the day after finding the dinosaur drawing, but of course everyone thought they were crazy for freaking out over a scrible, saying that maybe some teens saw them around the Myers house and decided to prank them. They had non of it yet couldn't do much, the only advice the cop gave them was to close the doors and keep the inside of the house private.

Now however, when the police heard (S/N)'s testimony that's when they took it more serious. Sure, the probability of it being some dumbass dressing up to be funny was there, yet it worth checking just in case, specially when knowing that the real Michael Myers kidnapped his sister. And who knows, maybe he'll do the same but with some random child...

—"(Y/N)..."—

(S/N)'s gentle voice shut all overwhelming thoughts inside (Y/N)'s mind. They slowly put the knife next to the cooking board and look at their sister.

—"What is it songbird? Still scared?"—

The girl fidgets with her fingers a bit while staring on the tiled kitchen floor. Eventually she sighs and her arms drop.

—"I'm sorry..."—

(Y/N) blinks a couple of times, confused with their sudden apology.

—"Sorry? For what?"— you ask, genuinely confused.

—"For starting all this mess... I think Terry is right, I'm just a scaredy cat that overreacted."— she says, her expression guilty.

Their eyes widened slightly, they walk over to their sister and kneel in front of her.

—"You did nothing wrong sweetheart, you actually did the right thing! The police is there to help, to protect us."— you say softly as you cup her cheek. —"And you better get ready because tomorrow I'll say Terry some not-so-nice things to that goblin so he leaves you alone."—

—"It's... It's not about Terry anymore, it's about you (Y/N)."— she lowers her gaze even more. —"I- I don't like how much you have to worry now, and it's all because of me! If-... If I just stayed quiet, if I didn't ask to see that dumb old house we would be okay and happy, and we would be able to celebrate Halloween!... I ruined it all I- "—

Before (S/N) could continue with her rant, her sibling wraps their arms around her form tightly, holding her close in silence for a few seconds.

—"I said you did nothing wrong. This situation could've happe to anyone, and we got the unluky number. I know you're worried about me and I admit that I may not be at my best state, but it will pass eventually and everything will be right again."— you lean back a bit, your gaze warm. —"We just need to hold on a bit, until the police catches that scary man. I'm sure it will be soon."—

(S/N), more calm, nods as she wipes the little tears that were threatning to slide down her cheeks.

—"Was that man Michael Myers?... Is he the Boogeyman?..."—

(Y/N)'s body goes stiff as they think what to answer. They haven't told their sister about the stranger's identity, not wanting to scare her even further but it seems like (S/N) started to figure out the whole situation by herself.

—"I-... I don't know."— you sigh, but she doesn't seem convinced. —"Myers is supposed to be in the asylum and- "—

—"He escaped... Did he?"— she glances at you.

After a little pause, their sibling nods, their expression a bit sad, even ashamed for trying to keep her oblivious. But the girl had no anger or resentment in her eyes, but a desire to know.

—"What did he do so everyone are so scared of him?..."—

—"I'm... I'm not sure you want to know that... Long story short; very scary and bad things."—

—"What things? Please tell me (Y/N)! I promise I won't get scared!"— she begs you in a childish tone.

(Y/N) remains quiet, thinking. Eventually they sigh and stand up.

—"You better take a sit, I'll go get you a poptart."— you simply say.

The girl gets a little spine chill, both excited and worried about what her sibling is about to tell her. Ones the girl took her sit on the dining table and was munching the sweet treat, (Y/N) starts speaking while resuming their cooking.

—"Last year, a few days before Halloween, all grown up Michael Myers escaped. He killed people while doing it, and not in a pretty way..."—

(S/N) freezes mid bite.

—"K-Killed?..."—

—"Yes... Killed. One of the victims was one of his caretakers, a sweet old man that was there since he was a kid..."—

(Y/N) could see how physically uncomfortable their sister got, even if the details of how he killed him weren't mentioned. They began to feel bad for the little girl and were ready to stop the 'story telling', but the girl proved to be tougher than expected.

—"And what happened after he escaped?..."—

—"He... He tracked his little sister, that is now a teen. He murdered her adoptive parents, a friend and then kiddnapped her, nearly killing her as well in the process. The sister survived though, and Michael Myers supposedly died when she shot him, but as we can see he didn't..."—

The little girl listens quietly, taking in the information and shrinking on her sit every second, the munched poptart still untouched in her shaky hands.

—"Is he... Is he coming to kills us?"— she finally asks.

There are a few seconds of silence, until (Y/N) breaks it, their tone loud, strict, cold... Yet burning with anger and determination.

—"I won't allow it."— and you meant it. —"If he dares to come, I will break every single limb of his. He's not touching you while I'm still breathing."—

Such tone took (S/N) off guard, she never saw her sibling be so cold and serious about anything.

—"But... But what if he hurts you?..."—

—"He won't. Mom and dad won't allow him."— you reply with a softer tone and then turn towards her. —"Even if they're not here, they still taking care of us. We'll be okay, songbird. I promise."— you smile.

The girl remains silent, observing their expression to see if they're just pretending, but (Y/N)'s look and words seemed genuine. She eventually smiles back with a toothy grin.

—"You're right! Bet the ghost of mom and dad are going to haunt him if he dares to come!"—

—"Oh they definetely will! Dad was scary but angry mom was even scarier!"—

And the dull atmosphere from before vanished in a blink of an eye, the siblings talking about random topic which would make them either laugh or argue. The tunes coming out from the speaker only made their afternoon even better, singing or even dancing, anything to keep the dark thoughts away.

But of course, they weren't enjoying it alone. The dark presence was outside, hiding in the shadows. Even though he couldn't see (Y/N) through the windows anymore, due to the curtains they strictly maintained closed, their tone alone was enough to make him feel the same adrenaline spike, his chest heavy with some sort of excitement. The way their cold voice managed to penetrate and shake every single bone and muscle inside of him was an indescribable feeling, yet so, so adicting. They knew who he is, the atrocities he commited and how much of a threat he is, yet they made it clear how many fucks they give about it, only worrying about the safety of the little one.

And now... Now that the atmosphere inside of the house changed, so did his mood. The way they both laughed, chanted, danced... Every single interaction between these two radiated with warmth, warmth strong enough to keep the crude outside world away from their little happy home.

From their little happy family...

Happy family...

He should be envious of them, he should be mad at them for having what he could never have, she should try to destroy it, to destroy the both of them so he stops feeling bad...!

But... He doesn't. He doesn't feel bad at all, none of these negative and destructive feelings are haunting him, not ones. It's the oposite, he actually feels warmth whenever he observes them, some alien coziness that unknowingly to him would make his body relax and gaze soft. He's not sure why he feels like this, but he can't deny the fact that if feels good... Peaceful, he feels at peace for ones in his wretched life.

He should be content with that, with what he has it should be enough, it should... But he knows that his mind will crave for more...

And it's only a matter of time before he loses control.

. . .

October 28th.

The last couple of days been pretty uneventful, the 'Boogeyman' wasn't mentioned anymore and didn't appear ones, even the owl family resumed their carefree lifestyle and were already teaching their babies to fly!

But unfortunately, tonight the siblings couldn't observe the birds due to a hard storm outside. Rain, wind, thunder, you named it all.

(S/N) was in (Y/N)'s room, she was quite scared of thunders so of course she would ask to sleep with their sibling who, unlike the young one, was probably having the best sleep of their life.

The bed was quite wide so they both fit without any issue, each one with their own blanket.

At some point though, a particulary loud thunder resonated, which made (S/N) cuddle closed to (Y/N). The mentioned sibling woke up due the loud sound but thought nothing of it, ready to close their eyes and go back to sleep.

But suddenly, an alarming feeling striked in their gut. Something felt wrong, is the air colder? Heavier? Is their heartbeat too loud? Is the house too silent? It's hard to tell what exactply isn't right, but they know something is.

They suddenly sit up, their eyes wide and staring at the door. The little girl felt the sudden movement and also sit up, though her form sleepy and confused.

—"Uh?... What's wrong?"— she mumbles before yawning.

—"...I don't know."— you reply, still staring at the door.

The girl blinks a couple of times and also looks at the door. They both remain in this position completely still, barely breathing, until a very faint thud resonated somewhere downstairs. Sure, the noise could mean whatever, but the sense of dread inside of (Y/N) only increased, demanding them to take actions.

—"{Songbird.}"— you whisper, your tone urgent. —"{I want you to tiptoe towards the closet and hide in there, do not come out until I say so.}"—

—"{B-But- }"—

She has no time to ask questions because (Y/N) had stand up and was already searching under their bed for something. They eventually find what they've been looking for, a hunting rifle.

They then look up and glance at their sister, who was completely frozen on the bed with a horrified expression.

—"{Just go hide, please. And if things get ugly...}"— you pause, glancing at the door briefly. —"{Then run away, run towards our next house neighbors and ask them to call the police, okay?"}—

—"{But (Y/N)!... Y-You-...}"—

They nudge her side gently, silently telling her to stop talking and hide. With a huge effort the girl manages to make her body move again and as quietly as she could she made her way towards the closet, hiding her form inside and gently closing the door.

(Y/N) remained in place, near the bed with the rifle already pointing at the door. For solid five minutes absolutely nothing happened, the wind kept howling, the rain pouring and the thunders striking, but nothing else, there were no more odd sounds inside the hou-

Footsteps, the unmistakable sound of footsteps resonated from the stairs. Whoever was walking was doing it slowly, casually even, as if they owned the place. (Y/N) kept their posture, pre aiming at the door and simply waiting, if the intruder is bold enough to enter into their room they'll shoot without thinking twice. Sure, the idea of killing another human is scary and definetely puts their mind even more on edge, but it's either their and (S/N)'s or the intruder's life.

The footsteps eventually stop right in front of the door. There are another good few minutes of silence but it's suddenly interrupted by a loud and bright thunder, which illuminated the whole room and the hall. And right there, through the door crack, they saw an unmistakable shadow of a human.

With no time to waste and with enough evidence that there is an intruder, (Y/N) pulls the trigger.

BANG!

A faint line of smoke is coming out the rifle, but there was no thud or screams of pain at the other side of the door, nothing.

They remain in position for a while but after not hearing anything, or seeing through the tiny hole they just made, (Y/N) slowly lowers the gun, questioning if there even was someone or it's actually their unhealthy paranoia getting the best of them.

They got their answer when the door practically flew off it's hanles and a giant dark mass charged at them. They try to aim and shoot again but the intruder is way faster and manages to grab the end of the rifle and tilt it up the moment (Y/N) pulls the trigger again, making them shoot at the ceiling.

They both struggle, (Y/N) desperately trying to get the gun free but the intruder is way too strong, he's also big, which makes it nearly impossible to push away.

Realizing that things are actually about to get ugly, they shout.

—"(S/N)! RUN!"—

The closet door swings open and the little girl sprints out the room, quietly crying and extremely scared. The massive stranger stopped for a brief moment when he heard the girl, it was just a moment of stillness that ended up with him practically ripping off the rifle out of (Y/N)'s grasp and throwing it agains the wall with great force.

The next thing they know is that the intruder managed to get to their neck. Ones has a firm hold of it, he stands up to his full height and slams their body against the wall, knocking out any oxygen left in their lungs. It didn't stop (Y/N) from struggling though, doing their best to land a kick on his stomack or the lower (and more painful) parts, yet their attempts were cut short when the stranger began to squeeze their neck with both hands, making their struggles weaker.

Eventually, the lack of oxygen began to affect (Y/N) and their arms drop and their body goes numb. Only when they nearly fainted, is when the stranger lose his grip, not enough to let go but enough to let them breathe as they're kept in place.

Durning this little moment of calm another thunder striked and illuminated the room, allowing them to see the emotionless face of the stranger, staring right into their sould.

—"{Myers...}"— you mouth breathlessly.

A sudden little thud followed by a rubber squeak got their attention. (Y/N)'s eyes wide and fill with terror when they see (S/N) standing in the doorway with a little pile of toys in one arm.

—"Leave them alone! You ugly monster!"—

She exclaims as she throws another toy into Michael's broad back, the toy making little to no harm. The man merely glances over his shoulder, his gaze now focused on her little frame.

—"You're mad at us because we visited your home, are you?! (Y/N) did absolutelly nothing wrong, we went there because of me! I am the guilty one! You should've punish me instead!"—

She exclaims again, tears sliding down her cheeks like rivers yet she didn't care. The girl stood high and threw another toy.

—"Or you want to take them away?! I know you have a little sister too, I- "— she hiccups a bit. —"I can be your new little sister! Please take me! Punish me! B-But please! Please leave (Y/N) alone!"—

The girl ends up desperately sobbing, both scared of the man in front of her and the fact that her sibling may disappear forever. Michael slowly turns towards her as he lets go of (Y/N), their body falling into the floor as they gasp for air.

The man starts to slowly and menacingly walk towards (S/N). The girl suddenly realized the mess she just got herself into as she starts to back away, throwing the rest of her toys at the man in a desperate attempt to slow him down, but all they did is bounce off his body into the floor.

—"W-Wait! Ne-Never mind! I- I ch-changed my mind! I don't want t-to go anywhere!"— she lets out a squeak when her back hit the wall in the hall.

The massive man gets even closer, his shadow making the already dark house even darker, darkness that threatens to engulf anything and never let go. The girl lets out a terrified cry as she shields herself with her hands.

—"(Y/N)!"—

The desperate cry of their name made them regain their conscience quickly, they see Michael Myers being just two feets away from their sister, blocking any escape with his broad figure as he extends his hand towards the little girl. Oh god he's about to strangle her just like he attempted with them!

(S/N) is in danger.

They must save her.

No matter what.

But what both siblings failed to see, was the way Michael moved his arm towards the little girl. His movements where slow and smooth, no aggression reflected in them.

When he was about to brush his finger agains (S/N)'s arm, a spartan-like war cry resonated behind him and something cold was wrapped around his neck. (Y/N) tugs the thick wire back rougly, causing the behemoth to stumble backwards, leaving enough room for (S/N) to escape.

—"RUN GODDAMNIT!"— you yell.

And this time (S/N) listens, sprinting through the stairs as fast as her body allows, leaving the house and not return.

The struggle between Michael and (Y/N) continued, they held tightly into the wire, trying to squeaze it even more while Michael attempted to get them off his back. The man eventually gets the solution and slams his body, back first, agains the wall, but (Y/N) doesn't give up. He repeats this maneuver a couple of times until their grip is lose enough to peel them off him and throw them into the floor.

The fall didn't go well, (Y/N) ended up going face first into the floor, but whatever pain they felt is quickly overshadowed by the adrenaline rushing through their veins. They know they won't be able to kill this monster, they know they're going to die, they know they have no chance, they know... But they refuse to go down so easily.

Durning the struggle, it seems like the man dropped his weapon, which (Y/N) had already grabbed as they stand up again. They hold the knife tightly as they stare into the man’s eyes, blood was leaking through their nose down their chin like a river. And despite this, despite all of these disadvantages, they stand hight and ready to keep fighting.

The killer must think they’re insane for even daring to get back to their feet, that they’re delusional for attempting to fight back… But (Y/N) does not care, not when their most loved one is in danger.

Michael remains completely still, looking at (Y/N)’s form. The moment their eyes made contact again, the same spine chill jolted through his body. The feeling was electrifying, so adictive, it began to intoxicate his mind, his eyes half lidded and breath heavy. He shouldn't be like this, (Y/N)'s eyes should not cause his body to react like that, but he can't help it...

Their eyes... There was no fear on them, only cold rage, a burning determination to protect and fight back. This gaze could be compared to the one of a wild wolf protecting an injured member of their pack.

The sacrifice they were ready to make in order to protect their sister caused Michael to feel a bit of respect towards them... Maybe even admiration, no, obsession. He was obsessed with their eyes, with their voice, with them... He was obsessed with (Y/N).

They both remains still, but eventually, and to their misfortune, Michael makes a move. He charges at them but (Y/N) seemed to learn from their previous mistake as they step aside and make a clear slash on his shoulder, causing the man release a low groan.

They attempt to stab him on the neck but Michael quickly grabs their wrist mid attack and tightly squeezes it, to the point that he felt something pop inside and right after that the knife was released from their grasp. But (Y/N) still refused to give up, this time they attepts to land a hit on his face or grab his mask, attempt that was cut short when Michael pushed them into the floor and practically tackled them.

(Y/N) glares daggers at him, their gaze hateful.

—"Don't you get it you sick fuck?!"— you exclaim, voice full of anger.

Michael only tilts his head, action that only pisses (Y/N) off.

—"I am not stopping, I won't stop fighting, not when my sister is in danger! Not while I'm still breathing!"—

And after these words they start struggling under Michael's large body, as the man himself got entranced with them again. Their bloodied visage looked so beautiful to him for some reason, their eyes filled with hate, not only towards him, but towards everything in the world made his breath shake. If it was any other victim he would be frustrated with such behavior... But not with (Y/N), never with them.

At some point, their struggles began to morph into quiet sobs, desperate and disappointed. They were disappointed with themselves, their helplessness and their inability to protect (S/N), not from this monster. They failed her...

They look away and bite their lip, holding their cries as best as possible, not wanting this beast to see them cry, to give him the joy watching them slowly break. This new picture of (Y/N) caused something inside of Michael's chest squeeze painfully, this new broken and vulnerable (Y/N) was very different from the previous one. It may not cause him the same thrill, but in ignites a new emotion, something he though he lost very, very long ago...

Protectiveness.

The same one he felt when he saw Angel cry, when she cowered away from him before he tried to reveal himself... And even after she tried to escape, he still felt protective of her in his own way... And now he feels it towards (Y/N).

Michael's head then straightens as he began to lean down, closer to them. (Y/N) tries to use their last bits of strength to push him away, slow him down, anything to keep him away from killing them in that same instant. When they feel his large arms wrap around their form, they shut their eyes tightly, expecting to feel pain at any second as he breaks their body limb by limb... But that doesn't happen.

They keep their eyes closed for a solid minute, and when still nothing happen, they open them just to be greeted by Michael's large form holding them in a tight embrace. His body warm despite his clothes being wet, the heat slightly soothing any pain in (Y/N)'s body, but not their mind. Being this close they can feel how powerful and strong Michael's body is, even embraced they can barely move, he could easily break their spine at any moment with enough force if he wanted to...

But (Y/N) had no time to question it or had any strength to push him since the adrenaline started to worn off and their vision and senses to slowly black out.

They're not sure how long Michael held them, but eventually he let go and stood up as the plice sirens got closer. He throws one last glance at (Y/N)'s nearly unconscious form before grabbing his knife and walking away.

But, it wasn't the last time they will see him...

Because the monster inside of him will force him to return…

[pinguwrites]

Forever Yours | Jackson Rippner (Kinktober 2023 | Day 31 — Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader)

READ DISCLAIMER

pairing | jackson rippner x reader

summary | In this college au, Halloween is nearing its corner, only for the festive mood to be cut short when your classmate is brutally killed. As the series of murders continues, Jackson Rippner finds himself the next target, oblivious to the fact that his hunter is you, his girlfriend, the ghostface.

word count | 5k

Warnings: smut, rough sex - SM, jackson's insecure, kinda sub!jackson, reader and jackson are sick and crazy, mention of parental abuse, masturbation, brief mention of animal death/abuse (hinted)

Disclaimer: This is part of my unfinished works. I don't write anymore, but I still wanted to publish what I have. I'll use bullet points to explain what I planned to happen at the end. Also note that this is heavily unedited, there will be a lot of mistakes.

"You can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings. You can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything" — Closer, Nine Inch Nails

Jackson Rippner was trying to become more romantic for you, an endeavor that started about a week ago after he noticed you liked passionate men. It was a simple conversation about fictional crushes — you know, the ones you have as a kid when he realized all the men you had pointed out were terribly lovey-dovey and all sentimental-like. A few origami roses here and there, some thoughtful gifts, maybe some poetic letters, and he was sure that he could outcompete all of them. He was the only man you needed, the only man you could ever want.

He knew how it sounded — pathetic. Since when was he the type to change himself for a girl? He was no Romeo or Jack Dawson, and he certainly didn’t want to be. He wasn’t a simpering fool, chasing after a pretty girl like it was his life’s mission, but as it turned out, he was for you. And if you liked your men romantic, then Jackson would be romantic.

Starting off with whatever this was: a package of your favorite stuff. Two books you mentioned wanting to get but couldn’t spare the money for, which Jackson just knew he had to buy, even though it would piss off his father — he was always stingy with money — but he figured it was fine as long as it came out of his own pocket. Some bath bombs he made from scratch, swiping the ingredients from around the house. He used a cedar wood scent for the essential oil, as it was the closest smell he could get to his cologne, and made three bombs, wrapped them in plastic, and put them alongside the books in the bag.

It was nothing big, but it was perfect. You were going to love it. You had to love it. How could you not?

He closed the bag and placed it on his desk, ready to go to sleep, when the landline downstairs rang. It was probably telemarketers, but it could also be his parents, who were out on date night. He decided to go head down and check anyways. 

He headed downstairs and picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end caught him off guard. “Hey,” a woman said, but it didn’t sound natural. It sounded like there was a voice modulator, the ones that criminals used in those crime shows you forced him to watch.

“Hey?” Jackson responded, confused, and a little irritated.

“I know who you are.”

Jackson tried to focus on the sound of the voice. Maybe he could pick out who it was if he listened close enough, but it was a fruitless effort. It was female, but too common to tell.

“You’re the one calling me,” he said, tone laced with amusement, “I should assume so.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“A creep? A weirdo?” Jackson laughed. “A stalker? I dunno. Take your pick.”

It was quiet. For a moment, he thought the woman hung up, but then she spoke again, “A lover. I’m a lover, Jackson.”

“Good for you.” He was tired, and didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Now, how about you either stop acting mysterious and tell me what you want, or I cut the call.”

“Someone’s going to die tonight, Jackson,”  the woman said. Oddly enough, Jackson felt a twinge of excitement at her words. It was oddly thrilling, and adrenaline inducing to hear such a thing. It was at this point he realized with himself that this woman was just messing with him, because who would admit to premeditated murder? 

“I hope it’s that girl from my English class. What’s her name? Ah, fuck, I forgot. She’s the annoying one—all emotion. Screams every time the lights go out. You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

So, she’s been on campus, Jackson thought. Following me, maybe. I can’t believe it! 

“It’s not her, though. But who knows, maybe she’ll be next. Would you like that?”

“Doll, I really don’t care. Do me a favor, and don’t call me again.”

He put the phone down and went back upstairs. What a fucking psycho. He was too tired to deal with this shit. After a night of wrapping gifts, all he wanted was to rest. But still, even as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about that call. A gut feeling told him not to dismiss it as a prank, but before he could contemplate it any further, he fell asleep.

+++

Jackson drove his car to Westwood’s campus, towards the west side of the college where he knew you were going to be. You had a 2 PM class on Thursday, and right about now was when it ended. He usually picked you up, driving afterwards to a diner, or sometimes to a random spot where you could both be alone and make out in.

As he watched the students pile out of the building, he spotted you, near the back of the crowd, having a conversation with your good friend Lisa. He narrowed his eyes once he saw what you were wearing — a dark, plaid miniskirt with a black crop top. Even from this distance he could see the curved outline of your breasts, and imagined the view from behind, but as you got closer, he noticed the look on your face — concerned, nervous. In fact, he noticed the look on everyones face. They were whispering amongst each other in hushed voices, unlike most days when they were loud and rowdy. 

You waved goodbye to Lisa, then headed over to the car, getting into the shotgun seat. In a quick movement, you gave Jackson a kiss on the cheek, then leaned back with a heavy sigh. “Did you hear?” you asked.

“About what?” He was a little worried, but knowing you it was probably because you got a B on a test or some other stupid bullshit. He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, exiting onto the main road.

“You know,” you said, not leading much on. “The girl.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I can’t understand you when you speak all cryptic like this.”

“Sorry — I just thought you knew. She went missing, just last night or something.”

Jackson froze. “What?”

“Well, not missing.” Your voice was a little awkward, as if you were uncomfortable talking about it. “Lisa told me she’s dead. At least, that’s what she heard. But you know, the police haven’t come out with a report and I haven’t looked at the news yet.”

Jackson couldn’t believe it. His mind went to last night, and the mysterious call he got. Did the murder have anything to do with that? It couldn’t be a coincidence. Would it be interfering with an investigation if he didn't tell the police?

“What’s wrong?” you asked, your tone holding a hint of concern.

Jackson wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell you. It was probably just nothing, but still, he didn’t want to keep any secrets. It was Relationships 101, communication, even though he was shit poor at it. 

“I got a call last night,” he said, as nonchalant as he could. “It was this woman. Her voice was masked, so I couldn’t recognize it. She, uh, told me that someone was going to die.”

You huffed. “Are you being serious?”

“Yeah.”

You swatted his shoulder, making him chuckle. “You have to go to police, Jackson! They can track down the call and find out who it is — maybe she’s the murderer. Haven’t you thought of that?”

“I did,” Jackson said. Seeing the look on your face, he relented. “Alright. I’ll go to the station after I drop you off, happy?”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. I don’t want to leave you alone. What if you’re being targeted, hmm? What if you’re next?”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Stop overreacting. You can come, but you’re just gonna get bored.”

You were fine with that, so it seemed.

He drove to the police station, noticing the presence of reporters. He managed to slip you both past them, though he suspected that the only reason he got through was because they weren’t interested in them.

He went up to the front desk and told the lady he needed to report something. She nodded and brought out a paper to record, when she realized exactly what Jackson was reporting and decided to call the lead detective on the case.

It took a while, but eventually called Jackson and you over to Detective’s Reisert’s office, settling you both down in a pair of chairs.

It was a series of routine questions. When did the phone call happen? What was said? Who was in the house at the time? Why didn’t you tell anyone? What did the voice sound like? 

At some point, you were ushered out of the room. It was silly, because it’s not like you had anything to do with this, but then Reisert asked: Who do you think it was? Is it possible you knew this person? Why were you called?

“She knows who I am,” Jackson answered. “I mentioned English,” Jackson didn’t specify exactly why he brought it up, “and this girl in my class, and she said she knew her. She could’ve been lying, though, I never told her a name.”

“And what do you think she meant by saying she was a lover? Do you think it’s possible this is someone who has a crush on you?”

Jackson laughed. “Probably.” He didn’t know many men or women who didn’t have a crush on him at some point.

“Someone who doesn’t like your girlfriend?”

Jackson’s mood got cold. The idea hadn’t even passed his mind. If this mysterious woman was the killer, and did have a crush on him, then of course, you were a threat. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and it was clear Detective Reisert could sense it, because he placed a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and said, “Son, don’t worry about it. Those are all the questions I have. You’re free to go.”

Jackson shrugged him off, not leaving. “Who was the victim?” he asked.

The detective hesitated. “Miya Reinhart. She’s currently missing, but we’re doing everything in our power to find her,” he said, getting up from his seat. “We’ll investigate the phone call and see if we can find out where it came from. If it’s anything worth checking out, we’ll call you back in.”

He ushered Jackson out the door. You were patiently waiting in the lobby, hands interocked, nervously glancing around. Why did some bitch have to die? he thought. Now I’m going to have to deal with all of this.

As he approached you, the name Miya Reinhart ringed in his head. He could’ve sworn he knew who it was. Maybe someone in one of his classes, a friend of a friend? It wasn’t until you both started walking out the door did it click in his head.

“It’s Miya, right?” he said, looking over at you. “The curvesetter?”

You groaned at the mention of her. “She thinks she’s so smart, it’s a wonder she has any friends at all. You know, just the other day —” you fell silent, taking in the look on his face. Slowly, your eyes filled with guilt “. . . Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You nodded your head, licking your lips. You opened your mouth to speak, but ended up not saying anything at all. Maybe it was for the better.

Jackson put his arm around you. He drove to your house, a two-story with a nice front lawn and backyard, pretty flowers and sprinkles that ran through the night. He parked in your driveway, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to hell with it and reach into the backseat, pulling out the little bag of presents he made for you.

“I don’t want you to be thinking about anything bad,” he started, handing you the gift. “I got you a little something, maybe it’ll take your mind off of things.”

You opened it up. Inside was a bath bomb, colored red, and two books. Horror books. Stephen King novels.

You paused for a moment. Jackson got a little nervous and glanced over at you, wondering if you liked it or not, but when he saw the little smile on your face, he relaxed.

"Thank you, Jackson," you said genuinely, closing the bag. "You didn't have to get something for me."

He shrugged. "You're my girl." He didn't say anything more after that. There wasn't anything else to add. That was all the reasoning he needed.

+++

Jackson liked to think he had a reasonably good friend group. There were four, not including him — Daniel, a football player who got here on a full scholarship ride; Aneria, a relatively calm girl who liked basic things like the mall and stripped blue jeans; Lisa, your ride-or-die, not much more needed to be said other than the fact that you two were so close he was almost concerned you were gay; and then, of course, you yourself. He wasn’t entirely sure how this group of people came to be, but the basics were — Daniel and Jackson were friends, you and Lisa were friends, Daniel had a crush on Aneria who was loosely friends with Lisa, and so Lisa agreed to try and bring them closer together, and lo and behold, everyone came together like ingredients in a cake.

Jackson’s eventual investigations revealed that Aneria did not like Daniel back, and so the entire thing was a waste except for the fact that he met you, but it wasn’t like he was booting himself out of this group anytime soon. 

“She’s been scared recently,” Daniel told Jackson one day as they were both smoking outside behind a dingy restaurant. “Because of the murder, you know?”

Ah, right. The police report came out the morning after Jackson went to the police station. Miya Reinhart’s body was found in the woods near her house. Police were apparently investigating some promising leads, but at the moment they had nothing more to say.

“And how does that benefit you?” Jackson wondered, taking in a slow puff.

“She’ll want protection,” Daniel said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve been driving her back to her dorm recently, she doesn’t want to go by herself, nor do her parents. They like me, dude. Parents plus my masculine energy should be more than enough.”

“Masculine energy?” Jackson said with a scoff and chuckle. “Sure, dude. Just ask her out.”

“It’s not that easy. I mean, how’d you ask your girl out?”

Jackson leaned his head against the brick wall. “She wooed me.”

Daniel thought about it for a moment. “Maybe I’ve been doing it all wrong. I should be asking her for advice, not you.”

“That’s probably right.”

“You know, I’m planning a party next weekend. Halloween-themed.” Daniel got up from his position and dusted off all the dirt from his pants. “You gonna come?” He lent out his hand.

“Yeah, ‘course.” 

Jackson let himself get pulled up to his feet. They started walking down the street and back to the general vicinity of where both their neighborhoods lay.

“It’s a costume party, obviously. And I’m thinking I should make Halloween-themed treats, the type that moms make when we’re kids, you know?”

Jackson never experienced that. As a child, his Halloweens were his mom trying to do something nice for the family, then getting drunk and upset after his father never showed up. After a certain point, Jackson stopped anticipating any type of celebration and his mom stopped making an attempt. 

“It’s a little childish — but who cares? You can get the drinks, right?” Daniel continued.

Jackson nodded, hands in his pocket. “Yeah, and food, too. How many people are gonna be there?”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t want this one to be big. I was thinking just us five and, like, a plus-one.”

That was more than fine with Jackson. In all honesty, he didn’t like Daniel’s big parties, the ones where everyone he ever talked to was invited, where he had to clean the house out because Daniel was too crossfaded to move a muscle. 

At least he had something to look forward to this week.

+++

���I told you someone was going to get murdered.” 

Jackson sucked in a breath. He had an awful feeling when he picked up the phone — he should have known it would be her again. His eyes darted nervously around the room, paranoid — across the walls and the crevices of the room, the windows and the opened crack of the closet door.

It was almost enticing. It was like a game, in a sick, cruel way. Who was she? A tormenter, a killer. Criminal.

“What do you want?” Jackson asked, stern.

 “You.”

The audacity! he thought. “I have a girlfriend,” he responded simply, wondering whether this was the right time to call the police. He almost didn’t want to. He wanted to see how far this would go, but he knew that was stupid.

He was still wondering whether this whole thing was a prank or not. It was possible that this was a huge coincidence, and with the murder they were simply taking advantage of a bad situation. 

“Maybe she’ll be next.” 

Jackson’s heart thumped in his chest, so loud he could feel the beat throughout his entire body. He felt his body chill, goosebumps along his arms. No. This was not a prank anymore. 

“Listen here you bitch,” he spat into the receiver, “you hurt her in anyway I’ll find you and gut you like a common whore. You understand?” 

She laughed, no — giggled.

“You’re so protective. What a man.” 

Jackson was about to end the call and call the police but then she added, “But it doesn’t matter. You’re too late.” 

He could feel his breathing waver, shaking. In fear or anger, he didn’t know — probably both.

“What do you mean? What have you done to her?” 

The call ended.

“Fuck!”

Jackson threw the telephone into the wall, watching as it broke apart and left a dent. Upstairs, he could hear his mom call out his name in worry, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was already putting on his shoes, sprinting out of the house and towards his car. Without abandon, he started the engine and sped down the street towards your place. It would take a good ten minutes. Your parents house wasn’t as close to Westwood as his was. The whole time he couldn’t stop thinking, What if you were already dead?

His palms were sweaty, and he was driving recklessly. There were few cars on the road. He he was subject to honking more than once, and it was out of sheer luck that he avoided being pulled over by a cop car.

When he finally arrived, he rushed up to your front door and rapped, frustrated when there wasn’t an immediate response. Where the fuck were your parents?

He thought about going over to the side of your house and climbing to your window like he used to do when you first started dating, but the door opened and to his great relief it was you standing there, unharmed and looking rather confused.

But still. He couldn’t take any chances.

“Jackson?” you said, surprised. “What are you — ”

Jackson pushed his way inside and locked the door, wrapping his arms around your figure, letting your head rest against his chest as he used your comfort to calm his heart. It felt like the world was not functioning the way it was supposed to — everything was so fast and heavy but muted, like he was in a dream. A disturbing, horrible dream.

When you pulled away, you opened your mouth to speak, but he placed his finger against your lips, shushing you.

“Are all the windows locked?” he asked, his breathing steadying.

“Um.” You thought for a moment. “I dunno. Maybe.”

Jackson sighed, wanting to pinch your side for being so careless. How many times had he told you to keep all house openings locked?

He went to every window on the first floor, while you followed behind, barraging him with questions. What happened? Why are you here? Is something wrong?

He placed his hands on the side of your arms. “Call the police, okay, doll?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Just do it, I’ll explain after I check upstairs.”

“Babe, just tell me now.”

Jackson moved past you, but you grabbed his hand and dug your nails into his palm. “Tell me,” you said softly, but your tone indicated that you weren’t playing.

He paused. After taking a deep breath so he could speak properly without running out of air, he spilled everything. When he finished, you reacted in a way he didn’t expect, but was grateful for— calm and collected, albeit worried.

He went upstairs to lock the rest of the windows. He heard your faint voice talk to the police downstairs, explaining the situation. When he made it to your bedroom, however, he noticed something odd. There was a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Once he made sure that all the openings on this floor were locked, he removed one of the shirts, which had small red spots. Like a splatter.

He sniffed it, against his better judgement, and recoiled at the scent. It was most certainly blood. The iron was unmistakable. 

“What are you doing?”

He turned around like a deer caught in headlights.

Jackson held up the shirt. “What is this?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered. “Lady stuff.”

“Like what?” He narrowed his eyes. “Periods?”

With a faint blush, you nodded. He rolled his eyes, wishing that this type of conversation wasn’t so embarrasing.

“Give it to me,” you pleaded. “I was just in the process of cleaning that when you came. I don’t want the police to see this.”

Jackson gave the shirt back to you. What you wanted to say was — ‘I don’t want a bunch of old men to see this.’ 

+++

“One more time, let’s go through what happened when you came here,” Detective Reisert said. “When you told her — your girlfriend — what had happened, would you say she was frightened? Panicked?”

Jackson sighed. He was sitting on your couch with the police as they canvassed your home. You were being interviewed in the dining room, and your parents were on their way back from the work convention they were supposedly at. There was a swath of news reporters outside your house, as well as confused neighbors. All the curtians and blinds were shut closed, to give you guys at least a bit of privacy, but the nosie and flashing lights were just as distracting as the sight of them.

“I mean, yeah,” Jackson said. “But it’s not like she was having a panic attack. I don’t see why you’re interested in her reaction. I need to know whether she’s safe or not! What happened to the phone call? Did you trace it or — ”

“It’s from a burner account,” Reisert said. “The person who did this was smart. But we’ll find them.”

Jackson was not satisfied. “I want security. For her.”

“We’ll have someone protecting her twenty-four by seven. What I want to know is why she was so calm.”

Jackson couldn’t believe this. “Because she was. She’s just like that. I mean, her cat died a few months ago and she didn’t even shed a tear.”

“Didn’t even shed a tear,” he repeated slowly. “That’s odd. How’d the cat die?”

It was then that Jackson realized what the detective was implying. “She didn’t do this, if that’s what you think.”

“Everyone’s a suspect, son.”

“I’m not your son!”

Reisert paused. “You’re right. Where is your father, by the way?”

“Not important.”

“I think it is. I think it’s a parents responsibility to raise their child properly. To tell them not to say things like, ‘I’ll gut you like a common whore’. That is what you said, right?”

“She was threatening my girlfriend,” Jackson snapped.

“Of course, of course. What about the stain on her clothes? The blood?”

Jackson wished he had never mentioned that at all. “It’s from her period.”

“And what did it look like?”

“I dunno, red.”

“. . . Those are all the questions I have.”

Detective Reisert got up from his seat and gave a polite smile.

Jackson rubbed his temples, finding this whole situation to be absolutely insane.

When he passed by the dining room, he overheard you and some others officers talking. It’s not like it was a crime to eavesdrop. This wasn’t a police station, he could stand wherever he wanted.

“It was a period stain,” you said with an exasperated tone.

“On your shirt?”

“Yes, I was . . . I was doing something, and I didn’t have a towel, you know? I don’t want to explain this, I shouldn’t have to! It’s personal.”

“Can we see the shirt?”

“It’s upstairs, but I already cleaned it.”

“With what?”

“Hydrogen peroxide. I-It’s not weird, I’ve been doing it since I was eleven. Ask my mom when she comes back, she’s the one who taught me.”

“We will. Thank you for your time.”

You got up, the chair rubbing against the hardwood floor. You walked over to Jackson with tears in your eyes. He immediately pulled you into a hug, guiding you away from everyone else and towards a more secluded area.

“Shh, shhh, it’s okay.” He rubbed your back, soothing. If only Detective Reisert could see you now. Look what his team had done to her. “Let it all out.”

“I wanna go upstairs,” you cried, grasping onto his shirt. 

“Yeah, I’ll take you.”

They went to the guest room, as your bedroom was being occupied. He laid you down on the bed and wrapped a blanket around you two, letting you sob into his jacket. It was wet now, which he didn’t like, but he wasn’t about to stop you or move your head.

As he soothed you, he thought about everything that was going on. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, to him and his girlfriend of all people. And the thought of you being targeted . . . 

They were still like that for a while. Your parents came back home and made a big fuss, rightfully. They never liked Jackson that much, so after thanking him with a half-assed smile they asked him to leave the house. There was no way Jackson was going to leave you after this, but the police officer who was being stationed at your house insisted as well, so reluctantly, he agreed and headed back home. He kept you on call the entire night, even when you were sleeping. He needed to hear you, even if it was just your breathing. He needed to make sure you were alright. 

+++

“That’s absolutely crazy,” Aneria said, walking side by side with Jackson. They were both heading to their next class which they both shared. They always walked together. Usually Jackson would drop her off and go on his own way, but he’d been missing too many classes and he didn’t want to get in trouble with the school. If that happened they would contact his father, and his father would just give him the fist.

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed, kicking a small pebble across the sidewalk. You were staying at home for the time being. You had taken a few days off, and while he knew you were protected, he still couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

“What exactly happened?” Aneria asked, brushing back her blonde hair. “I mean, I heard rumors that they think it might be . . . you know . . .”

“Might be what?” Jackson snapped, turning to look at her. He didn’t mean to lose his patience, but he was in a bad mood. He sighed. “Sorry. I’m just pissed. Tell me.”

Aneria hesitated, then spoke, “That it might be her this whole time.”

Jackson paused in his tracks and turned to look at Aneria. “It’s not. It’s not, why would she do that?”

“I’m not saying I think it’s her, I’m just letting you know how people are feeling,” Aneria said with a shrug. “Also,” she added nervously, “I’m looking out for you.”

She placed a hand on Jackson’s arm. He felt mildly uncomfortable.

“I’m worried about you. Some psycho is stalking you. She’s murdered people, and I — I’m worried about you. So is James, even though he might not say it.”

Jackson shrugged her hand off. “I’m flattered.”

Aneria didn’t say anything more after that. When they got to class, a few people were looking at him with pitiful stares, and after the lecture was finished, the professor pulled him aside to ask if he was okay. Jackson said he was, which was a lie, but he was not about to pour out his heart and feelings to the old man who used to yell at him for not doing his work. 

+++

———

(This is where I stopped writing 😬)

The next part is a short scene where Jackson reminisces about old times and how he met you. Back in highschool you were a good student, but also a preppy bitch and he didn’t really like you. But somehow you won over his heart and instead of going to some fancy college like you thought he would, you ended up staying with him in community college, which he suspects is the reason your parents don’t like him so much.

He also talks about the fact that he’s never had sex with you, and is actually a virgin. He’s nervous about the intimacy.

+++

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jackson chastised, pulling you away from the rest of the crowd and into his arms.

They were at a football game.  

So basically this a small scene where Jackson and the rest of the crew except Lisa and Aneria are at this football game. The next day they realize someone else was murdered, and the police clear you up as a suspect because of your alibi.

In another scene, you try to have sex with Jackson, but he pushes you off. You get a little annoyed and decide to just call it a day, because you’re under the assumption that he has slept with people before, he just doesn’t want to sleep with you.

The police start looking into more clues related to Jackson. They think this is the work of some yandere/stalker, and they think it might be Aneria for a hot moment because she so obviously has a crush on Jackson. They end up dropping that train of thought.

At the Halloween party, Aneria makes a move on Jackson, inviting him into a bedroom upstairs. But you stop her by stabbing her through the heart. Jackson is shocked and also incredibly turned on. You rape him. He struggles at first but eventually gives in and fucks you back. It was supposed to be a blood kink, knife play sort of scene that was really rough and crazy on both sides.

Jackson doesn’t understand fully though, because you weren’t there during the time of one of the murders. You tell him not to worry about it. You suggest running away to some other state or maybe a foreign country. Jackson is ready to leave it all behind.

As you get in the car before anyone notices something is wrong, Jackson notices Lisa in the driver’s seat. She’s been your accomplice this whole time, and she was the one who murdered someone at a football game. You both drive into the night and are never heard from again. 

________________

Taglist in case anyone's still interested: @shroombloom-rry @madnessandobsession @henrywintersdearestgirl @hllywdwhre @your-nanas-house @ellebelleshelby @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008 @wild-rose-35 @nela-cutie @slut4thebroken @flwrs4aust @httpxgray

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory: Chapter Seventeen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (I’ll sneak the sexy warnings in at the end so you can look away if you want) Mild Anxiety if you squint, drinking/alcohol, discussion including sex references, gentle brotherly bullying, a lot of pointing and laughing at Jake (lovingly), Pirates Of The Caribbean references, Tall Tales from our Short King, Fluff, wholesome family time, silly banter amongst the boys.

*smut warnings*: sexual language, praise kink insinuation 😏, fingering, use of captain/daddy (it’s mild) thigh riding, Jake is sexy as hell, everyone.

Word Count: 5.1k 🤭

Summary: It’s Trivia Night! Charlotte decides to hang out with everyone for the night and gets to hear plenty about our favorite little pirate man.

Author's Note: ITS A FAMILY EPISODE 🥰 This was honestly way too fun to write 😂 I hope you enjoy getting to hang out with everyone because it was fun finding ways for them to interact with my main girl, Charlotte. 💕

(I listened to Bed Chem and Juno by Sabrina a lot also while writing parts of this chapter so do with that what you will! 🤭😘)

Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter "I'll be honest, Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense, Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in."

It took some mild convincing from Quinn and Jacob, but I’ve decided to participate in Trivia Night with everyone. Not going to act like I'm not a little nervous to hang out with everybody again since the only time I saw them all together was at Halloween, and I was drowning my nerves with whatever drink ended up in my hand.  

“You’re already friends with Quinn, and I’m sure the ladies love you,” Jake quietly tried to pep talk me as I sat in my usual seat at the bar. 

“No, I know,” I sigh. “It’s more the boys that make me nervous.” 

“They’re just louder than me,” he laughs. “They’ll be nice to you though, don’t even worry about them.” 

I take a deep breath as I look at him. 

“I’ll spit in their drinks if they’re mean to you; how’s that sound?” His eyebrow raised as he said it, and I couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of me. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re not clocked in, so,” he says with a dumb little smile on his lips. 

“Oooo Lottie, you’re hereeee!” Quinn yells as they step foot into the bar. The rest of them slowly trickled in behind them.  

They wrap their arms around me, practically swaying the barstool with them. “Come sit with us?” Okay, okay, okay. I nod and follow behind them. 

Once the booth has been claimed, the boys apparently wander off to grab drinks and queue up songs on the jukebox. 

“Since the boys aren’t here for a minute— have you two.. y’know?” Quinn asks with a dramatic wink, and I can feel the blood rushing to my face. They already know you’ve kissed him; what’s the harm?

My hand covers my mouth, trying to hide the smile growing while I nod. I practically received a standing ovation at the confirmation. 

“You have to tell us how it went because we’ve never really even seen any girl that he’s even been on a date with! Let alone actually sleep with,” Willa says, leaning into her hand with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. 

“Oh, um, well,” I hesitate, not really knowing what to say. This was easier with Cass because we just didn’t have a filter with each other, and I’m still not sure what is too much with them. 

Quinn can definitely sense the panic so they cave and ask, “Does he know what he’s doing?” 

“YEAH,” my eyes go wide. “He’s probably more deceiving than you’d think.” My eyebrows practically touch my hairline at the thought. 

A collective giggle from the table made me laugh. 

Mel whispers, “Did he make you–”

“Three times in one night.” 

“JAKE, YOU DOG,” she whisper-screams back to me. 

Willa and Quinn just look at each other before Willa finally lets out, “.. must run in the family.”

“What runs in the family?” Sam asks, handing Willa her drink. Danny is next to him, handing Mel’s drink over to her, and then takes off to get trivia night going. 

Mel’s eyebrows shoot up as she lets a quiet “Being a little bitch,” slip out before she sips on her drink; the smirk on her face is undeniable.

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam laughs, sitting in the booth next to Willa. 

Josh isn’t far behind him, holding three drinks. Setting them down, but quickly handing Quinn’s over to them and then sliding one over to me.

He leans down to me, whispering, “I was given the task of bringing your beverage from a secret admirer of sorts.” My stomach filled with butterflies at his comment. 

“Hey! This is the family table, no secrets!” Sam pipes up. 

Josh whips his head over, “I was just politely asking if I may squeeze in next to my little lovebug over there; otherwise, I will take the shortcut!” He steps his foot onto the edge of the table, making everyone panic for a moment. I quickly slide out of the booth while Mel and Quinn trade spots to make it easier. 

Danny starts explaining the basics of trivia night to everyone; hearing his voice like that was so odd because he’s been so quiet around me; it’s almost like I hadn’t heard him speak before. 

“Tonight’s theme is Pirates of the Caribbean! “ His enthusiasm is rapidly met with a collective groan from everyone. I glance over at Jake, who is just beaming over the theme—of course, he’s excited. 

A few patrons, including Linda, hollered, ‘Not fair!’ 

“Hey now,” Danny chimes back in, “Before everyone gets too mad, Jake will be bartending as his handicap for tonight’s trivia!”

Everyone I’m sitting with is pointing and laughing at Jake as he dramatically pouts behind the bar. I can’t take my eyes off him as he finally breaks the sad face, laughing with someone sitting in front of him at the bar. It’s adorable how much he loves his job. His eyes meet mine, making my heart stop for a second, as he smiles and shoots me a little wink before turning to grab another drink for someone. 

“We’ll start with an easy one- a warm-up, if you will. Which movie was the infamous mermaid scene in?”

The fourth one.

“Charlotte, has Jake told you about the first time he got drunk?” Sam asks, already laughing at the question. 

My eyebrows raise, and I glance over at him behind the bar. “He has not, and I’m fully ready to hear it.”

“Oh, it’s a treat– TRUST,” Willa chimes in. 

Sam and Josh whisper between themselves before turning back to me, “Okay, so Daniel was actually at the house with me because it was a weekend, obviously.” 

Oh, he’s locked in, I’m ready.

“We were what, like thirteen or fourteen at the time, right Daniel?” 

“Something like that,” Danny quickly answers. 

“Anyway- so we’re just playing video games, as teenage boys do, and then Josh knocks on the door.” Sam looks to Josh, who is always ready to take over a story. 

He leaned forward, looking over at Jake and then back at me. “This guy over here decided that he would just drink anything that was handed to him at this party. Lo and behold, he ended up walking like  a baby deer by the time we got home.” He barks out a laugh, “He ended up eating shit in the front yard because he swore he didn’t need my help.” 

It was my turn to laugh, looking over to Jake, who was bright red at this point; he must have had to sit through this story often because he was taking it like a champ.

“Oh, and it gets worse,” Danny chimes in. 

“Yes! So, I ran inside quietly and grabbed these two,” Josh points at Sam and Dan, “To try and help me get the drunk out of the yard before our parents woke up.”

“But even with all three of us, we couldn’t get him stable enough to walk into the house carefully.” 

“You guys don’t have to tell everybody this story, you know?” Jake shouts from behind the bar. 

“Oh, but we do!” Josh rebuttals.

“After a few minutes of trying to get him up, we realized it was a lost cause and went and got our dad for help.” 

“Oh my god, no,” slips out of me before I can stop it. 

Making them all laugh because they know what’s coming next. 

“Well, our dad surprisingly didn’t get that mad,” Sam starts, “But he did insist on taking pictures before carrying him inside.” 

“Mom added them to a scrapbook!” Josh adds. 

My hand flies up to cover my mouth as I laugh at the thought of drunk teenage Jake passing out in the yard. My self-control ran low when I finally let out, “Please tell me she would send you the picture right now; I need to see it.” 

“Oh dear, I thought you’d never ask!” Josh laughs, pulling out his phone. “While we wait for the glorious photo, may I offer you another silly Jake story?” 

“You really don’t have to,” Jake says, setting down a tray of new drinks for the table. “Feels a little unfair; you’re airing out my dirty laundry, and I can’t even defend myself.”

“But, Lottie needs to be caught up on the Jake Lore!” Quinn pipes up, making the whole table laugh. His head drops back when everybody laughs, but his smile creeps through as he tries to scowl at them. 

“Can you at least throw in one redeeming one?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see, kid.” 

‘What is Will Turner wearing when he’s rescued?’ 

Oh.. the pirate medallion that Elizabeth takes. 

“Look who came to say ‘Hi’ for a few minutes!” Mel announces as she approaches the table with her daughter. I’ve never seen a group of people get so excited over a child. I watch as everybody takes turns hugging her. Josh definitely took the most time, spending time talking with her. They are the most precious little buddies.

She’s sitting on Quinn’s lap when I see her eyes light up as Jake comes over to the table. She quickly stands up in the booth, pointing to him with a big cheesy smile. Jake reaches out, stealing her away from Quinn, and despite the fact she probably couldn’t hear him, he lets out a, “Come here, sweetheart.” 

Why is that sexy? My hands start to sweat a little as I watch him hold her; he has her propped up with one of his arms. He brushes the hair away from her face as she just beams at him. Oh my god? 

“I’ll get you,” he mouths to her before tickling her little neck and then her belly. I can’t stop myself from noticing how big his hands look right now, as his palm seemingly takes up half of her tiny body. Her laughter fills the air as he plays with her for a minute. I don’t think I’ll be able to get this out of my head now. Why.. How is he so good with kids? 

She wraps her arms around his neck in a hug, his hand rubbing her back as Mel walks back up. 

“Oh, how sweet,” she says, “She was asking if you would be here tonight, Jake.” 

“She hasn’t figured out I live here yet, huh?” he jokes, looking at her and smiling so big at her. I’m not even in a relationship with this man; why is this so–

His voice pulls me out of my head, “Char, do you want another drink?” Hearing him call me by a nickname catches me off guard. He hands Iris over to Danny as I’m nodding at him, and he steals my glass from me. 

“Oh, perfect timing!” Josh boasts, sliding his phone across the table. “The requested photo.” The way I picked it up could have been at record speed. 

And what a feast for the eyes it was; there lies a baby version of Jacob, absolutely obliterated in the grass. 

“You can swipe for another good one,” Josh pipes up, his cackle quickly following.

Hesitantly swiping to the next one, it’s of him thrown over his dad’s shoulder with Sam cheesing next to him. Jake’s eyes are shut, and his hair is all over the place, but the way you can tell in the photo alone that he has just given up is hilarious. It’s cute that his family didn’t yell at him for it, and if this was the worst punishment he got, he was pretty lucky. 

“Oh god,” Jake’s voice suddenly next to me again. “Not my best moment, clearly.” I laugh quietly as I look up at him, his face softening a bit when he looks back at me. 

“Didn’t pin you as a sloppy kind of drunk, Jacob,” I tease. 

His smile grows quickly, “He’s a different breed– I don’t like to let him out very often.” Oh, I need to see him a little drunk at some point. 

‘What is Jack’s last line in Dead Man’s Chest?’

Jake leans down, his mouth hovering over my ear before saying, “Hello, beastie,” in his finest Jack Sparrow accent. The sound of his laugh graced my ears as he stood back up. Not entirely proud of how the English accent affects me, but he doesn’t need to know that.  

“Oh!” Josh pipes up, “Jacob, remember when you planned that one date in high school?” 

“Haha, oh boy, I have a bar to tend to, unfortunately,” his eyes wide as he walks off to escape this story. 

“So what about this date?” I lean into my hand, looking over at Josh. 

“It was really very cute,” he starts. “He asked this girl out, and she actually said yes. So, he spent like a week and a half planning out this date-” 

A collective ‘awww’ coming from the rest of us. 

“Well, she never showed up. He was devastated. Our poor Jake has been getting ghosted since the beginning of time.” 

How does he have such bad luck with girls? 

“He did get stood up— what was it like three months ago?” Willa asks, looking at Sam. He nods mid-sip of his beer. “Poor guy moped around for a week.” 

“It’s honestly baffling; he really is such a sweetheart,” Quinn adds, with Josh nodding along with them. 

“How come Quinn can say that and it’s okay, but I tell him he’s handsome ONE TIME—,” Willa starts, her face back towards Sam. 

“Wrong– you’ve said it twice,” he corrects her with a smug look on his face. 

She rolls her eyes, “Sam, be so serious right now,”

“YEAH, that’s right, I’m keeping track!” his voice raises for a second but immediately drops when he says, “Plus, you’re MY very beautiful and hot girlfriend, we don’t need to give him any ideas.” He side-eyes Jake while he wraps his arms around her shoulders tightly.

“He’s not going to try and steal Willa from you, Samantha,” Quinn giggles, watching him hold her hostage.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After finally being able to get away from the storytime table, I hustle to the bathroom: two drinks plus  Josh’s storytelling skills, a recipe for disaster. 

“Oh, excuse me,” I back away from the bathroom door as an older lady walks out. 

She stops in front of me for a second, her eyes lighting up, “Well, it’s about time I run into you.” 

“Um..” I hesitate. 

“I’m Eleanor,” she grabs my hand gently, “Or El, whichever the boys feel like that day.” The realization of who she is hits me; this is the one Willa said Jake was going to marry. 

“Oh! Hi, I’m Charlotte,” I shake her hand lightly, “I’ve heard about you, nice to officially meet you.” 

Her smile is contagious, “What a pretty name for such a beautiful girl.” 

“Oh, you’re too sweet.” 

“It’s nice seeing him so happy, you know?” She starts, “I’m not trying to tell all his secrets, but the poor boy has just had no luck the last few years. Constantly being let down by all these girls— which is such a shame because he’s such a charming young man.” 

My heart hurts hearing her say that. Why would girls not like him? 

“Oh really? I didn’t realize it had been that bad.” 

“Yeah, the poor thing had basically given up on dating. He really just invested himself into being here, which is admirable of him, but between you and me,” she leans in, “Linda and I are so glad that you’re getting him out of here a little. He needs it.” 

“He really is something special,” I admit to her, “It’s a loss for all the girls who didn’t give him enough of a chance.” 

“You said it!” she giggles; it seems her voice is just quiet by nature. “If I were younger, I’d be trying to take him home with me.” Her little wink made me laugh. 

“I’m not one to kiss and tell,” I whisper, leaning closer to her, “But you’d be making the right choice.” She giggles with me this time. 

“Well, let me not hold you up any longer! I’ll see you out there,” she squeezes my forearm gently as she turns to walk away.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

As I’m walking out of the bathroom, I catch him coming from the back room and promptly make myself in his way. 

“Hey you,” he whispers. 

“Hi,” I say quietly back, “What are the odds I can steal you away?” Letting my hand run down his forearm, he subtly grabs it while he listens.  

“For work or..” his voice trails off, and that damn eyebrow of his popping up. 

Shaking my head, “Mmm.. definitely not work.” I pull my bottom lip in with my teeth as I look at him. 

“Ohhh, I see,” his shitty little smirk coming out. 

“So, is that a yes?” 

He looks down the hall past me, “I don’t know about that, Red.”

“We could just sneak upstairs real quick,” I don’t even care how desperate I sound at this point because I am a little desperate. 

“The bar’s kinda busy, I don’t–” 

I quickly cut him off, “What about your office?”

“Someone’s eager?” His eyebrows pull together for a second as he looks me up and down. 

Hooking my finger into his belt loop, tugging him toward me, “Baby, please,” batting my eyelashes at him.

“What’s gotten into you?” his laugh lacing the question.

“Just seeing you with Iris, I don't know..” trailing off, I lean forward into him, my hand holding the side of his face, “I just think you’d make a cute daddy.”

 Pink creeps into his cheeks rapidly before he spits out, “I’ll meet you in my office in five minutes.” ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

He backs me into his desk, slotting his leg between mine. He leans against me, letting his weight press into me. 

“Jake, please,” I moan as he leans even further into me, making my hips grind against his thigh. 

“Needy little thing,” he whispers as I moan into his mouth, still trying to resist riding his thigh. He glances down for a second as my hips betray me, “Does that feel good?” 

My face warms up, and a small “mhm” escapes me. The smirk on his face makes my stomach turn, nervous about whatever is going on inside his head. He leans in, the kiss feels more heated than before. His teeth lightly grabbed my lip, which sent a little shiver through my body and caused my hips to start moving a bit more forcefully. 

“Keep going,” he whispers against my lips, “use me, honey.” 

“Fuck me,” falls out of me, the friction making my head spin. 

He quietly laughs, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

God, he needs to never stop talking. 

His lips leave kisses down my neck, finding every sensitive spot he can get to. I’m doing everything in my power to refrain from moaning too loudly, but he’s making it increasingly more difficult. The waves of pleasure shooting through me every time I roll my hips are only made worse by the feeling of his smile against my throat. 

“Jake–,” I whine. “Touch me.” I slide my hand down the back of his arm, trying to pull it from behind me. 

“Oh, you need my hands?” He teases me, whispering a breath away from my ear. “Is that what you want?”  He unbuttons my pants but hesitates to do anything else. The amount that I want, need rather, him to just touch me, is bordering painful.

“Baby, please,” I moan into his ear, “You’re just so good at it.” His hand immediately slid into my pants at the praise, running his fingers across my panties that are practically drenched at this point. 

“All that for me?” He coos into my ear, sliding the soaked fabric to the side; his fingers gently rubbing against my throbbing clit, causing a louder moan to slip out. “Gotta stay quiet for me, honey. Unless you want everyone to know how good I make you feel.” 

His voice was killing me as he added pressure with his fingers; the build of my orgasm was quick once he got involved. His hand slides down as he hooks his middle finger into me. Letting his palm rest against my clit as his finger pumps into me, the friction was just enough to keep inching me closer. 

“I’m so close,” I quietly whimper. 

He leans in closer to my face, hovering just above my lips, “Let me have it, honey.” He slid his ring finger into me as he said it and then leaned in to kiss me as his hand moved faster. I can feel the orgasm about to snap inside me when he lets his tongue gently dance across my lip. My jaw falls open as my release finally hits; I can feel the wetness against his hand as he works me through it. As I come down from it, his hand slows with me. 

He carefully pulled his hand back, grabbed my jaw with the other, and pressed one slow kiss into me. He lingers close to me for a second and, with his cheeky little smirk, asks, “Feel better?”

I giggle against his lips, kissing him a few more times before deciding to add fuel to the fire, “For now.”

“For now?” 

“Oh, Jacob,” I tease, sliding my arms around his neck. “I’ll be ready to actually ride you later.”

His eyes light up at my comment, “You may be the greatest friend I’ve ever had; I hope you know that.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I managed to slide back into the booth with minimal questioning, though I think Josh knew what had happened with the way his eyes were burning a hole into the side of my head for a moment. 

“Oh, I did think of something wholesome for Charlotte,” Sam announces to the table. 

“He’s not here,” Josh reminds him, “You don’t have to suck up to him.” 

Sam’s laugh makes me laugh when he comes out with, “No, I know, but don’t we want them to get toge—“ 

“What were you going to say, babes?” Willa, wide-eyed, cuts him off before he finishes his sentence. Wait- do the boys want us to..? 

“I was just thinking that- he’s always been the one we go to,” he says, his tone feels different. “Like, with anything. He’s typically the first one I’ll think to call if I need actual help with something.” 

“No, that’s so true, actually,” Quinn chimes in. “He will do so much for the people he cares about. The amount of times he’s texted me to let me know that he left the door unlocked for me or that he bought more of the coffee creamer I like since I was at their place all the time anyway.”

Danny was lingering near us while they all talked about the exuberant amount of nice things Jake had done for them. 

“He got me the job at the shipyard and then basically created a job for me here; I feel like that speaks volumes about who he is as a person,” Danny says quietly. 

I look over as he’s at the opposite end of the bar; his smile is so wide. He must be talking to Linda and Eleanor– always taking time to talk to everyone while they sit there, but for those two specifically, he really makes sure to dote on them a little extra. 

The table falls quiet, well- quiet is subjective, and I take my chance to ask the question that I’ve definitely been sitting on. 

“Is there a reason for the Bob Seger cut out?” I ask. “Actually- there’s just a lot of Bob Seger that happens here? Because I’ve been here near closing time, and Night Moves, I think..has been on every time.” 

Everyone looked at each other; it was almost comical the way they all paused when I asked. 

“Jake!” Josh hollers, “Your presence is needed!” I watch him move through the room, slowly moving through people to get to us. “Someone is asking questions that..you should be here for.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

I look up at him, “What’s with all the Bob Seger?”

“Oh!” His eyes darted over to Josh. “Haha, well–.”

Willa chimes in, “Oh, this should be good.” 

“It started with Night Moves and, uh,” He pauses, looking down at the table for a second. 

Josh quickly chimes in, “Mind’s slipping away from you?” 

His head whipped up to look at Josh, “No no, just want to make sure I recall it correctly!” 

“Well,” Sam pipes up, “we got ALL night.”

Danny bumps into him, whispering something in his ear. 

“Ah! Yes, thank you, Dan,” he says, patting Danny’s arm as he walks off. “Have you heard the lore of the Old Port Pirate?”

“Obviously not,” I giggle. 

Sam pipes up quickly, “Really!?” 

“Oh! Charlotte, you’re in for a treat,” Mel says, leaning into her hand, ready to hear this story. 

“Josh, do you mind watching the bar for a minute while I explain this?” 

“Oh, but of course!” He quips back.  “I do love this story, so I’ll be lingering over here!”

I let Josh out of the booth, with Jake sliding in next to me as I sat back down. He turns to face me a little with a smirk on his face. 

“So, there’s this man who wanders around the Old Port, typically found sitting in front of one of the stores nearby. We’ve been told that he thinks he’s a pirate, so..that’s where the name comes from,” he chuckles at himself.  “Well, he wandered in here the day we opened, and obviously, from one pirate to another, I wasn’t about to send him on his way.” And a precious little pirate you are, Jacob. 

“Of course not! Pirates are always welcome in a tavern!” Quinn chimes in. 

“Exactly– I’m glad you understand,” he says. “While he was here, he barely spoke. Just kept to himself the entire night until Night Moves started playing.”

I glance around the table; Sam, Willa, and Mel are all fully invested in this. Wait..

He excitedly continues his story time, “He waved me down and proceeded to tell me about how Night Moves was his favorite song. Said that he actually knew Bob at one point– which I’m not going to tell him that I don’t buy it because.. well, if you saw the guy, you’d understand.”

“So you just…play it every day?” Why do I kind of believe him?

“Well, we never know when he’s going to come back or if he will,” he tells me. “But I want to make sure he feels welcome!” 

Willa asks, “Didn’t he pay with a doubloon?” 

“He did! That’s why it’s framed over there!” Josh hollers from behind the bar. 

“Oh,” I try to collect my thoughts. “Well, um—”

“I know it’s a pretty exhilarating story- take your time to process it,” he says, double-tapping the table. “I do need to go take the bar back from Josh, so if you have any more questions, you know where to find me.” His hand gently squeezes my arm before he scurries back to the bar. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“Alright, be honest,” I say as he walks over to me. “Is this pirate man real?” 

“Of course, he is,” he says, no hesitation in his voice. “Do you want more to drink?” I nod as I’m trying to figure out if he’s lying. 

I let out a small, “Mmmm..” folding my arms over my chest as I watched him make a fresh drink for me. 

He slides it over to me, “Have I lied to you before, honey?” 

The way I want to kiss- I mean, smack the smirk off his face. My arms drop, and I can’t fight the smile on my face any longer, “Alright, I’ll believe you.” 

He leans forward onto the bar, resting his head in his hand, “While you’re here.. you should stay with me tonight.”

“Mmm.. I don’t know if I should,” I tease him.

He blinks slowly at me, a little smirk on his lips, “What if I promise to make you breakfast?” 

“Well.. that does sound nice but..” trying to sound dramatic, but let’s be honest- there’s no way he wouldn’t win this battle. 

“Josh is going to Quinn’s,” he pauses and lowers his voice “.. we can have sex.” His eyebrows shoot up, making me giggle. 

“Now we’re talking, Captain.” I lean forward into my hand now; we probably look ridiculous right now. 

“What was the other name you called me?” He winks at me, pulling his bottom lip in with his teeth. 

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” 

“Might need to try it out later and see,” he says, giggling to himself. It’s cute how excited he gets over little things like that. I wave him closer, and he leans a little further. I stand on the little supports of the barstool to meet him in the middle. 

I whisper into his ear, “Whatever you want, daddy.” 

His jaw goes slack, as he stares at me, slowly shaking his head while that devious little smile of his grows on his face. I just raise one of my eyebrows at him, waiting for the truth to come out. 

“If you keep talking like that,” his voice trails off. 

I can’t stop myself from asking, “What about it?”

“I’ll be making sure you let the neighbors know.” 

I gasp before I can even think, “Jacob!” 

“Yeah, it’ll sound kinda like that,” he says; the smug look on his face as he backs away is killing me. 

I know my face has to be red at this rate; I let out a fairly loud “Um!” Glancing around at the people near us, including his brothers. 

“They didn’t hear, don’t worry,” he laughs; I hate how sexy he is sometimes. “I only want you to hear me anyway.”

Oh, this man is on one tonight. 

“Charlotte!” Willa yells from across the room, distracting me from him. Thank god.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Spending the rest of the night laughing and hanging out with everyone. Jacob still managed to school everyone on his Pirates of the Caribbean knowledge, not that anybody was shocked. It was nice getting to just spend time with people, even if it was a lot of them having to fill me in on the backstories of most conversations. They were so welcoming to me. 

And amid another Josh story, I hear the sweetest sound faintly over the chatter in the bar and even cutting through Josh’s voice; the opening chords of Night Moves started to play. I glance over to Jacob, whose eyes are locked on me, and something about his stare makes my heart flutter. 

‘Workin’ on our night moves—“

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Eighteen

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Reply or fill out this form to be added to the taglist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @mindastreamofcolours-deactivate @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf

@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold

@takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf

@josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk

@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars @i-love-gvf

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan @scoreofinfantryvines

@demonrat444 @hollyco @ourlovesdesire

@musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219

@becinabubblegvf @sanguinebats @lallisonl

@nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #6

It's time to read PKNA #3: Day of the Cold Sun! Yippee woohoo yahoo this is a good one!!! Also the last one that got printed in English :(

Genuinely what the fuck is he wearing here. How to look inconspicuous step 1: dress in bright neon green. Step 2: wear some kind of weird top hat jester combo??? A top hat with little dangly bells on it??? Like yeah Raider SHOULD be arrested just for putting this fit together. I don't know who your tailor is but I suggest you sue.

Camera 9 finally gets the recognition he deserves, he's been carrying this entire series as far as I'm concerned. Way to go little dude!

NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NEVERMIND 💀 I HATE IT HERE

I love angry fucked up robo strength Lyla, defend him he's done nothing wrong!!! EVEN THO YOU WIPED HIS FUCKING FOOTAGE-

TWO ANGUS FANGUS????? MY NIGHTMARES ARE COMING TRUE

Did he just pull up at her apartment window 😭 He knows where she lives????

clucklehead.... I'm really gonna miss these goofy ass insults from the official translation

cop moment 💀💀💀

Raider I'm literally begging you to ditch Fangus in the neolithic period, you'd be doing us all a huge favor

oh. that's PROBABLY not good- Also somebody please buy Donald some brown contacts I'm literally begging

2017? I thought it was the 90s... actually you know what ELSE takes place in 2017? Have you heard of Disney's Duckta-

Fuck... she saw through our master plan of stuffing Donald in a duffel bag and putting on a Spirit Halloween mask

I have no idea who this reporter is but she ate and left no crumbs. kinda gagged tbh

The way Camera 9 is just watching from the corner 😭

AND CAMERA 9 STAY WINNING BITCH 💯 THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT

I think this chapter is excellent, my only complaint is that it has quite a few twists and turns and can be kinda confusing on first read. I had a GREAT time reading through it again though, it's an incredibly interesting story. I do feel bad for Lyla about being kept in the dark by the time police, who were gonna fucking SCRAP HER which is just mean. Also shoutout to the Raider for going to time jail AGAIN, I'm sure he'll definitely stay locked up this time guys! He's not going anywhere I promise!!!

This is also my open letter to IDW to please please continue printing these comics in English. The people weren't ready in 2016 but they're ready now, I swear. I'll buy 10,000 copies if I have to. We can start a campaign you guys, I believe in the power of me and the like 20 other American PK fans on here. WE HAVE TO AT LEAST GET THEM TO PRINT THE NEXT ISSUE MAN IT'S LITERALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES-

Anyways, see you guys next week when we read Earthquake which I'll be super normal about. Buhbye!

[roachsideblog]

GORETOBER DAY 7: INSOMNIA

Hiiiiii I'm back with another drabble <3 I'll probably post these on Ao3 once I write them all. If you're wondering where day 6 is, it's on my nsft alt @sideroachblog here (no minors or I'll put razorblades in the halloween candy i hand out this year)

Thanks to @nonsenseafterdark for writing the prompt list <3

Words: 364

TWs: forced drug use, LSD, torture, panic attacks, bad trips

Summary: Makarov has fantastic method for sleep deprivation. No ships/romantic pairings.

~~~

“Can’t sleep, Sanderson?” Makarov asked.

The enemy sergeant sat chained in the corner of a prison cell, hugging his knees like a child hiding from the boogeyman. Considering the amount of LSD they pumped him with, it isn’t unlikely that that’s what the man thought was going on. Makarov zoomed the outdated camcorder in on his petrified expression and laughed. Sweat and tears poured down his cheeks as he whispered, ‘no, no. Please. Please, no. Please,’ on repeat.

Lysergic acid diethylamide. A psychoactive drug that intensifies one’s senses and thoughts. At high enough doses, auditory and visual hallucinations occur. Each time  Makarov forced a tab in Sanderson’s mouth it caused another eight-hour trip at the very least. Was it possible to enjoy the high? Maybe. But the fate of a trip hinged on one's mental state, and the sergeant was already run ragged from previous torture. He was dehydrated. Hungry. Beaten. Lonely after a week of solitary confinement.

Makarov didn’t want to kill him, but was far from done playing with his toys. Luckily, LSD is relatively physically safe. It’s damage lies in psychosis. However, Makarov’s favorite side effect, was the insomnia. LSD didn’t afflict all his prisoners with an inability to sleep, but it had Sanderson in a chokehold.

The poor thing shook like an animal, sweated like a pig until his hair was soaked, sucked in shallow breaths at a rapid pace. His pupils dilated and his eyes were open as far as they could go despite obvious exhaustion. Makarov could practically hear his heart beating out of his chest. This was Sanderson’s third dose in a row; nearing fifty hours awake in total (yes, the upper end of a trip length nears twenty hours). Makarov would be kind and give him a break after he came down from this trip. Eat, drink, and sleep in order to do it all again the next day. If only it didn’t build a tolerance so quickly and Makarov could keep this type of torture running long-term.

He couldn’t wait to get this video to that bastard MacTavish. To show what became of his pet project. If only Makarov could see in Roach’s head and record what horrors put him in such a state—he’d be the happiest man alive.

[h2llish]

I don't know if this is still up but anyways "Trick or Treat"

I absolutely adore Che'nya and I think he deserves some more love so what about a romantic Che'nya (if you want obviously [wouldn't wanna be a bother])

you're no bother at all, they are still open don't worry! i've never written for him before this'll be fun!

if there was one thing che'nya loved to do, it was to scare people. and so it was no surpise to you when you learned that his favorite time of year, was halloween. ─ when halloween came around, he loved to appear out of no where to give someone a good scare, with the added bonus of whatever halloween prop he had with them.

and you, being his partner, was his favorite target.

you can't say you weren't used to his antics, but regardless of how often he spooked you or how used to them you became, there were times he managed to scare you, much like the start of your relationship, when every little thing he did caused you to jump.

"che'nya, i have work to do for the halloween festival coming up, so i don't know if i'll make it to lunch." you announced as you exit the bathroom, towel in your hands and eyes scanning the room. when your boyfriend wasn't spotted sitting on your bed like he often was when waiting for you to wish you a goodnight, you paused. ─ oh, great.

you stepped further out of the bathroom to look around. and while you were on guard and expecting him to appear from thin air as he often did, what you weren't expecting, was a mask to appear right in front of your face instead of him. you yelped, jumping back and away from the halloween mask floating in the air.

it was only when you heard his familiar chuckles did you realize he had spooked you again. you groaned, reaching up to grab the mask, "che'nya!" but he was already gone again, leaving you with a mask and a towel in your hand.

you spoke into the air, knowing very well he was probably still right beside you, "i told you to stop that."

a weight on your shoulder, and che'nya was able to be seen again, snickering and grinning from ear to ear as you turned your heard to see him from the corner of your eye. "but you're so cute when you're scared."

you sighed, yet you weren't as annoyed as you made yourself appear to be, "you're such a pain."

"but you love me." he nuzzled his nose against your cheek and dragged out the word, to which you only rolled your eyes.

you pushed his head off your shoulder and forced hin to take the mask with a shove, he was still grinning, proud of himself and likely already planning his next scare.

"i'm kicking you out of my room for a week."